Miss Isitman
18
Sweden
Student & waitress
Penzance's finest feature: The coast path to Marazion
Words © Dee and Gerard Ivall. Images © Nik Strangelove
A passionate and honest attempt to consolidate the sense of purpose, belonging and excitement in the good folk of Penzance and its satellite communities. A frenetic sketchbook capturing endeavour, entrepreneurialism, eccentricity, creativity, charisma, community, humanity, humour, happiness and hope. A practical periodical covering inspiring current events, activities, ideas and ephemera to be found in and around the town.
Saturday, 14 July 2012
Wednesday, 11 July 2012
Folk Art : Blessed are the sign makers
Images © Nik Strangelove
Thursday, 28 June 2012
Queen Cheese
There are entrepreneurs who simply want to make money and there are those that have a vision of a broader context and their place within it. Helen Venning, owner of Newlyn Cheese & Charcuterie, is a shining example of the latter. Yes she has a passion for cheese, but she opened her little shop because she is driven by a genuine desire to put Newlyn and Penzance on the map as a destination for food lovers.
Born in North Cornwall, but moving to this area at the age of ten, Helen fondly remembers a time when Penzance was jam-packed with independent shops and the town glowed with a positive aura. While she has witnessed a distinct decline in this respect over the years, Newlyn has managed to cling onto its core of high quality food retailers; as well as its fishmongers, there's Lentern the butchers, Newlyn Bakery, Lovells fruit & veg shop and Jelbert's ice cream.
Helen simply sees her cheese shop as a missing piece of this jigsaw. In fact, much of the success of the business has come by perfectly complimenting the other sellers; she keeps tabs on what the other shops offer so there's no overlap, and she's happy to recommend them if customers come seeking an item she doesn't stock. While she does carry a small number of cheese-friendly items, like selected charcuterie, breads, crackers and olives, she is insistent that the shop is not a deli, and passionately upholds its singular purpose (much inspired by Jelbert's unbending 'vanilla only' policy). She believes in doing a few things well and not over-diversifying, and that's surely the secret to why her produce-selling neighbours are still going strong.
Interestingly, the final decision to focus mainly on cheese was dictated by the premises itself; in Helen's mind, the quirky little building by the bridge screamed 'old-fashioned dairy', and the concept grew around that vision. Inspiration also came from similar businesses like Country Cheeses in Tavistock, as well as other small retailers in the vein of Labour and Wait in London, who are channelling the vintage corner shop vibe exquisitely, with painstakingly chosen products, meticulously curated shelves and servers in crisp aprons. And yes, Helen's shop is beautifully styled and would look equally at home on Marylebone High Street as it does on New Road, Newlyn, but it works because it's simple and without pretensions; it's a real shop, selling everyday things that people want.
Cornish cheeses are the shop's central product. Helen has a good dialogue with the local makers which allows her to get to know the individual stories and to learn about new products. Local cheese connoisseurs and frequenters of the shop should be familiar with Yarg, Helford Blue, Helford White, Cornish Crumbly, St. Endellion Brie, Keltic Gold and the award-winning Cornish Blue. Sadly, Menallack, the producer of 16 fine Cornish cheeses including Menallack, Nanterrow and Tala, is no longer running (but panic not, Allet Farm is now producing their goat cheeses and there are plans afoot to bring the others back too).
Cheeses from further afield are also featured; a number of British classics and oddities are always welcome, and every month a small corner of the counter is home to a cheese representation from a particular European region. This idea stems from Helen's life away from Cornwall; for ten years she lived in Portugal, Spain and France. As well as a love of cheese (and food in general), she came home from her travels with some impressive linguistic powers and, until recently, she has put these skills to good use translating and teaching languages at Truro College. Listening to her authentic pronunciation of the obscure continental cheese varieties is almost as pleasurable as tasting them.
Helen built on her passion for the subject by learning on the job, talking to makers and by picking the brains of her partner Robert Wright, who runs Untitled
restaurant in Penzance. Now well-versed in the language of cheese
herself, she imparts her knowledge to staff through an in-depth training
process that involves visits to suppliers and a lot of cheese eating.
Of equal importance as the cheese, is service. Helen knows she can't compete with supermarkets on price, but what she can upstage them on is providing customers with an inviting environment, product knowledge and an eagerness to help and respond. A comments book allows her to fine-tune the stock to accommodate frequent suggestions.
To support the core products, Helen has a head full of future ideas, including cheese tasting evenings, a cheese recipe collaboration with local chefs, a picnic box service and the sale of mini cool bags with ice packs for customers with a long journey ahead of them. In fact, Helen's imagination is brimming with countless projects, and she's only being slowed down by the commitments of motherhood (Arthur is 9 months old). Despite this sweet distraction, Helen's energy is barely undiminished and her achievements are laudable.
Communities need people to act and inject positivity. As a
local who's been away and returned, it's easy to stand back and bemoan
the decay, but Helen didn't want to be that person. She's made a
difference and hopes her contribution will help kick-start a trend in
the right direction.
http://www.newlyncheese.co.uk/
Words © Dee and Gerard Ivall. Images © Nik Strangelove
Born in North Cornwall, but moving to this area at the age of ten, Helen fondly remembers a time when Penzance was jam-packed with independent shops and the town glowed with a positive aura. While she has witnessed a distinct decline in this respect over the years, Newlyn has managed to cling onto its core of high quality food retailers; as well as its fishmongers, there's Lentern the butchers, Newlyn Bakery, Lovells fruit & veg shop and Jelbert's ice cream. Helen simply sees her cheese shop as a missing piece of this jigsaw. In fact, much of the success of the business has come by perfectly complimenting the other sellers; she keeps tabs on what the other shops offer so there's no overlap, and she's happy to recommend them if customers come seeking an item she doesn't stock. While she does carry a small number of cheese-friendly items, like selected charcuterie, breads, crackers and olives, she is insistent that the shop is not a deli, and passionately upholds its singular purpose (much inspired by Jelbert's unbending 'vanilla only' policy). She believes in doing a few things well and not over-diversifying, and that's surely the secret to why her produce-selling neighbours are still going strong.
Interestingly, the final decision to focus mainly on cheese was dictated by the premises itself; in Helen's mind, the quirky little building by the bridge screamed 'old-fashioned dairy', and the concept grew around that vision. Inspiration also came from similar businesses like Country Cheeses in Tavistock, as well as other small retailers in the vein of Labour and Wait in London, who are channelling the vintage corner shop vibe exquisitely, with painstakingly chosen products, meticulously curated shelves and servers in crisp aprons. And yes, Helen's shop is beautifully styled and would look equally at home on Marylebone High Street as it does on New Road, Newlyn, but it works because it's simple and without pretensions; it's a real shop, selling everyday things that people want.
Cheeses from further afield are also featured; a number of British classics and oddities are always welcome, and every month a small corner of the counter is home to a cheese representation from a particular European region. This idea stems from Helen's life away from Cornwall; for ten years she lived in Portugal, Spain and France. As well as a love of cheese (and food in general), she came home from her travels with some impressive linguistic powers and, until recently, she has put these skills to good use translating and teaching languages at Truro College. Listening to her authentic pronunciation of the obscure continental cheese varieties is almost as pleasurable as tasting them.
Helen built on her passion for the subject by learning on the job, talking to makers and by picking the brains of her partner Robert Wright, who runs Untitled
restaurant in Penzance. Now well-versed in the language of cheese
herself, she imparts her knowledge to staff through an in-depth training
process that involves visits to suppliers and a lot of cheese eating. Of equal importance as the cheese, is service. Helen knows she can't compete with supermarkets on price, but what she can upstage them on is providing customers with an inviting environment, product knowledge and an eagerness to help and respond. A comments book allows her to fine-tune the stock to accommodate frequent suggestions.
To support the core products, Helen has a head full of future ideas, including cheese tasting evenings, a cheese recipe collaboration with local chefs, a picnic box service and the sale of mini cool bags with ice packs for customers with a long journey ahead of them. In fact, Helen's imagination is brimming with countless projects, and she's only being slowed down by the commitments of motherhood (Arthur is 9 months old). Despite this sweet distraction, Helen's energy is barely undiminished and her achievements are laudable.
Words © Dee and Gerard Ivall. Images © Nik Strangelove
Tuesday, 19 June 2012
Artists in residence
The seaside guesthouse has been much maligned over the years, but the counterattack on our sullied preconceptions is being spearheaded by a few visionary owners. While, overall, we believe the accommodation in Penzance to be of an excellent standard, one new establishment is making waves by staging an extravagant debut.
The Artist Residence opened on Chapel Street last spring, and while its arrival was barely noticed by the local community, the excitement it stirred among trippers, scouring the internet for a bed in our town, has been fanatical. The reason? It's different. And that's refreshing when many British B&Bs stick to a familiar homely style, and chain hotels opt for making their own lives easier by rolling out innocuous, wipe-down interiors. The phenomenon of the boutique hotel has done much to provide guests with another, more inspiring, option. But even in this territory, what once appeared to be individual, now looks generic.
The Artist Residence opened on Chapel Street last spring, and while its arrival was barely noticed by the local community, the excitement it stirred among trippers, scouring the internet for a bed in our town, has been fanatical. The reason? It's different. And that's refreshing when many British B&Bs stick to a familiar homely style, and chain hotels opt for making their own lives easier by rolling out innocuous, wipe-down interiors. The phenomenon of the boutique hotel has done much to provide guests with another, more inspiring, option. But even in this territory, what once appeared to be individual, now looks generic.
Artists Residence, we believe, is genuinely breaking new ground, and in more than one way. The most obvious departure from the usual is the wildly characterful rooms; the interior decoration of each guest room has been designed and executed by a different artist with a local connection. It's an original idea and one that sits well with our area's artistic leanings. The styles vary from room to room, creating unique, personal worlds which guests love, and enjoy picking the one that suits them. From Jo Peel's vibrant murals to Dolly Divine's delicate collage style, there's something for everyone. The 'A.R. Blank' room even allows residents to make their own mark on blackboard-painted surfaces.
There's a good deal of uninhibited energy at work here too;
the Penzance enterprise is the younger sister of the original A.R. in
Brighton, and in the pipeline there are plans for a further location in
London's Pimlico. But beyond the accommodation side of things, at the
core of the Artist Residence concept is art. While the rooms themselves
are already an exhibition of artist's work, there is also full-on
Gallery downstairs, designed to showcase a wider group of artists to a
wider public audience. Last Saturday saw the opening of Mat McIvor's
solo show, and his dynamic work, and the buzz that it generated,
demonstrated how the A.R has more to offer tourists and locals like. The
extensive Georgian building has space, and much of it is unused by
guests, so the vision is to create a busy social destination and arts
venue, something that Penzance is crying out for. The shop is one aspect
of this, selling local and artisan pieces. Food is another important
piece of the bigger picture; presently, chef Nic Lennon creates
5-star breakfasts and premium cakes for morning and afternoon tea, but
in a few weeks he will be opening a full-time café that will
spill out into the secluded rear courtyard when the sun shines. Strangely, it feels like the sun always shines inside the Artist Residence; the boundless ambition, youthful enthusiasm and creative spirit is infectious, and you can't help but smile while you're there.
Monday, 28 May 2012
Newlyn School rules again
Newlyn School of Art is a name that evokes the halcyon days of figurative painting in the area, and the famous names we associate with that period are known and respected the world over. But don't be confused, the school we're talking about only opened last year. In fact, this is the first and only place of art training to have used this name, and for many reasons it might not be what you perceive it to be.
That there is such an art school in Newlyn would seem natural; part of our heritage and something we could easily take for granted. But its recent presence is only due to the bloody minded determination of one person, the School's founder and sole proprietor, Henry Garfit – a man with a vision.A painter and printmaker himself, Henry relocated to Cornwall nine years ago to pursue a full-time career as an artist. It was an irrational and instinctive move, and to complicate his dream he was initially unable to find a studio space to rent. After a lengthy search, he came to the simple conclusion that there was a chronic lack of artists' studios in West Cornwall. Official statistics at the time stated that over 10,000 creative people were working in the county, but where? But rather than submit to the shortfall, the problem stoked his entrepreneurial spirit and, putting his brushes aside, Henry set himself the mission of righting this wrong. After much effort, including an abortive attempt to takeover some barns near Land's End, Henry was close to exhaustion when he happened to bump into a member of the Bolitho family (owners of Trewidden House) on a sleeper train to London. This chance meeting, and the subsequent negotiations, gave birth to Trewidden Studios; a collection of 15 self-contained studios on the outskirts of Newlyn, opened in 2008.
Motivated by the idea of upgrading the circumstances of local artists, and given new momentum by the success of Trewidden, Henry's ambitions grew into the formidable idea of founding a school. He knew that many local artists already relied on teaching work to supplement their income, but the commitment they must make can be detrimental to their artistic work. Henry's plan was to create a school where each artist's input was moderated to a manageable level; offering only short courses (a maximum of four days), allowing them to balance the teaching alongside their own artistic careers, but also ensuring that their input into the lessons is spontaneous and fresh. With an Arts Council grant secured, premises located and a ready-made name to use, he set about making his school a reality.
The novel concept was greeted enthusiastically by artists (none have declined the opportunity at the school thus far), and for many the teaching process has proved a healthy experience; an opportunity to verbalise their processes, share ideas and step out of the introspective world of their own art. Students too feel the benefit, with the chance to work with well-known artists, and by receiving passionate teaching from an experienced working practitioner.
The School's name is embedded in history, and there is a satisfying sense of continuity from past to present, but its links with those venerable ways have been loosened; the teaching style errs on the side of progressive. While key traditional skills are taught here, classes can be informal, free-form and often unconventional, depending on the tutor. While we were there, Sam Bassett's Experimental Drawing class was in full swing, with students painting with balls and sticks, and drawing with their eyes closed. The structure of courses is less rigid too, with students able to attend just one class, rather than having to sign up for a term's worth of lessons. It is this flexible and relaxed approach that gives the school its character and its niche, allowing it to sit comfortably alongside existing courses in the area.
The novel concept was greeted enthusiastically by artists (none have declined the opportunity at the school thus far), and for many the teaching process has proved a healthy experience; an opportunity to verbalise their processes, share ideas and step out of the introspective world of their own art. Students too feel the benefit, with the chance to work with well-known artists, and by receiving passionate teaching from an experienced working practitioner.
The School's name is embedded in history, and there is a satisfying sense of continuity from past to present, but its links with those venerable ways have been loosened; the teaching style errs on the side of progressive. While key traditional skills are taught here, classes can be informal, free-form and often unconventional, depending on the tutor. While we were there, Sam Bassett's Experimental Drawing class was in full swing, with students painting with balls and sticks, and drawing with their eyes closed. The structure of courses is less rigid too, with students able to attend just one class, rather than having to sign up for a term's worth of lessons. It is this flexible and relaxed approach that gives the school its character and its niche, allowing it to sit comfortably alongside existing courses in the area.
But who comes to learn? Student ages range from 16 to 86, and the level of experience present in any one class can span from professional artist or MA student, to the dabbler or the recipient of an Art School gift voucher who has yet to wield a brush. In short, anyone is welcome and all can benefit from the inspiration offered. And budding artists come from far and wide, enticed by Newlyn's art heritage, but Henry is heartened to see that the school is also being supported by locals; during the winter, 90% of the students were Cornish folk. Equally encouraging has been the support from local art bodies, which has been uninhibited; productive links have been forged with Penlee House Gallery and Museum, Newlyn Art Gallery and The Exchange, as well as Tate St Ives.
With all this positively buoying it along and a fifteen year lease in the bag, the potential of the School is limited only by Henry's energy. Even the building itself offers further scope; there are plans afoot to renovate further rooms to create a lecture space and a darkroom. Living where we do, art is an integral part of the community. Now here's the chance for us all to learn, improve, test our under-exercised creative muscles, or just have fun being an art student for a day or two.
Words © Dee and Gerard Ivall. Images © Nik Strangelove
Tuesday, 15 May 2012
Our cups runneth over
Café culture is flourishing in Penzance and we're hardly able to keep up with all the great places there are to graze, sip and sup in.
The freshly opened Mr Billy's is a tea or coffee lover's Shangri-La. Venture inside and you enter a world where the phrase 'fancy a brew?' could potentially translate into infinite permutations of ingredients, preparations and preferences. But if you just want a simple cuppa, the connoisseurial complexity isn't forced upon you, rather, it's there if you're interested. And if you are interested, Mr Billy's currently carries 42 kinds of leaf teas and 17 kinds of coffees – all of which can be purchased in any quantity to take home, but can also be served at your table. That's right, every one of their locally roasted coffee beans can be ground to order and served in an individual cafetiere, and as far as we know, this kind of offering is rare in this country, let alone Penzance.
This should be exciting to any fan of hot beverages. But it doesn't stop there. Each pot of tea ordered arrives accompanied by, among other accoutrements, an egg timer. The purpose of this, the waitress will explain, is to measure the optimum three-minute brewing time. Once precisely brewed, the leaves are removed from the pot, in their little straining bucket, and set aside. Having enjoyed your first cup, the remains of the brew is discarded, fresh hot water is fetched and the leaves are re-immersed for a second, perfectly fresh cup. You're even encouraged to take the used leaves away with you, to protract your enjoyment at home, and this makes the price of a pot exceptionally good value.
We thought tea ceremony was the preserve of Japanese culture, but it's all going on right here in West Cornwall. And for real tea heads, another fact we learned is that Green teas must be made with water heated to just 80 degrees Celsius, so as not to burn the leaf and incite bitterness. Of course, Mr Billy's have an urn that heats to exactly that temperature. All such information is yours for the asking, making it an educational experience as much as a pleasurable one. Also for sale are an array of the best brewing, straining and serving devices on the market, along with a tasteful selection of related gifts and food products.
The full tea menu is far too comprehensive to relay here, but in addition to the ones you may have already come across or have in your own kitchen cupboard, some standout varieties (if only for the allure of their names) include Puerh Tea cakes, Russian Caravan and Georgian Old Lady. Fresh mint tea and Chai teas are also available.
Coffee beans are a seasonal product, so supply fluctuates, but quality and variety are always assured. We're fans of the Black Chough blend by Hands-on Coffee in Wadebridge, who have developed the Mr Billy's Blend especially for the cafe.
To others who know of the owners, this kind of dedication to leaf and bean should come as no surprise, as Nigel and Heather Parry are the founders of Dishotay, the tiny shop at the top of Chapel Street that traded as a pure retailer of fine loose leaf tea and freshly roasted coffee. Having been regular Dishotay customers ourselves, we expected great things of the new enterprise, and the new café venture with Steve and Janet Mitchell is the natural culmination and of the couples' years of experience and knowledge. Nigel and Heather are seasoned caterers having previously run Billy's Café and the Beach in Sennen. And now, once again, they get to practice what they preach by expertly preparing and serving the speciality products they sell.
Also on the menu of the expanded enterprise are homemade cakes and some enticing lunch offerings. We tried a number of savoury dishes, with the 'food envy' award of the table going to the steak sandwich, with its strips of perfectly tender Trevarthan steak. We also shared a cracking cream tea with homemade scones, and an apricot and date crumble slice. On the quality of the food alone the place is to be highly recommended, but put this together with the liquid refreshments, and you're faced with a seriously appetising proposition.
The emphasis is on local and fresh, which is always a commendable principle. In fact, the Parrys have had strong links with local suppliers for many years: Origin and Hands-on for their coffee, and Tregothnan for their teas. And now they use nearby small producers like Trevarthan for their meat, and as we're talking, Joe 'the salad guy' delivers tomorrow's leaves.
Inside, the cafe is taking on an distinct Art Deco theme, but there's also an eclectic mix of other decorative items including Chinoiserie cabinets and reclaimed local signage. The interior space is deceptively large: from the window at the front the floorplate widens to a roomy bar and seating area at the rear. This means that the obvious street presence is limited, but we guarantee that word of mouth will work its magic to boost custom. Good places will be sought out wherever they are, and those offering the rare and unique will surely lure folk hungry for originality.
www.mrbillys.com
Order the teas, coffees and related accessories online at www.dishotay.co.uk
Words © Dee and Gerard Ivall. Images © Nik Strangelove
The freshly opened Mr Billy's is a tea or coffee lover's Shangri-La. Venture inside and you enter a world where the phrase 'fancy a brew?' could potentially translate into infinite permutations of ingredients, preparations and preferences. But if you just want a simple cuppa, the connoisseurial complexity isn't forced upon you, rather, it's there if you're interested. And if you are interested, Mr Billy's currently carries 42 kinds of leaf teas and 17 kinds of coffees – all of which can be purchased in any quantity to take home, but can also be served at your table. That's right, every one of their locally roasted coffee beans can be ground to order and served in an individual cafetiere, and as far as we know, this kind of offering is rare in this country, let alone Penzance.
We thought tea ceremony was the preserve of Japanese culture, but it's all going on right here in West Cornwall. And for real tea heads, another fact we learned is that Green teas must be made with water heated to just 80 degrees Celsius, so as not to burn the leaf and incite bitterness. Of course, Mr Billy's have an urn that heats to exactly that temperature. All such information is yours for the asking, making it an educational experience as much as a pleasurable one. Also for sale are an array of the best brewing, straining and serving devices on the market, along with a tasteful selection of related gifts and food products.
The full tea menu is far too comprehensive to relay here, but in addition to the ones you may have already come across or have in your own kitchen cupboard, some standout varieties (if only for the allure of their names) include Puerh Tea cakes, Russian Caravan and Georgian Old Lady. Fresh mint tea and Chai teas are also available.
To others who know of the owners, this kind of dedication to leaf and bean should come as no surprise, as Nigel and Heather Parry are the founders of Dishotay, the tiny shop at the top of Chapel Street that traded as a pure retailer of fine loose leaf tea and freshly roasted coffee. Having been regular Dishotay customers ourselves, we expected great things of the new enterprise, and the new café venture with Steve and Janet Mitchell is the natural culmination and of the couples' years of experience and knowledge. Nigel and Heather are seasoned caterers having previously run Billy's Café and the Beach in Sennen. And now, once again, they get to practice what they preach by expertly preparing and serving the speciality products they sell.
Also on the menu of the expanded enterprise are homemade cakes and some enticing lunch offerings. We tried a number of savoury dishes, with the 'food envy' award of the table going to the steak sandwich, with its strips of perfectly tender Trevarthan steak. We also shared a cracking cream tea with homemade scones, and an apricot and date crumble slice. On the quality of the food alone the place is to be highly recommended, but put this together with the liquid refreshments, and you're faced with a seriously appetising proposition.The emphasis is on local and fresh, which is always a commendable principle. In fact, the Parrys have had strong links with local suppliers for many years: Origin and Hands-on for their coffee, and Tregothnan for their teas. And now they use nearby small producers like Trevarthan for their meat, and as we're talking, Joe 'the salad guy' delivers tomorrow's leaves.
Inside, the cafe is taking on an distinct Art Deco theme, but there's also an eclectic mix of other decorative items including Chinoiserie cabinets and reclaimed local signage. The interior space is deceptively large: from the window at the front the floorplate widens to a roomy bar and seating area at the rear. This means that the obvious street presence is limited, but we guarantee that word of mouth will work its magic to boost custom. Good places will be sought out wherever they are, and those offering the rare and unique will surely lure folk hungry for originality.
www.mrbillys.com
Order the teas, coffees and related accessories online at www.dishotay.co.uk
Words © Dee and Gerard Ivall. Images © Nik Strangelove
Sunday, 13 May 2012
Tea by the Sea
Like a blue and white dingy, bobbing alone in the bay, the Little Tea Caravan has once again pulled up on the promenade. The caravan, named Rosie Lee, is resplendent in her new coat of paint and is not only a refreshing sight, but a welcome merchant of refreshment in the mile-long desolate stretch between Newlyn Gallery cafe, at one end of the prom, and The Poolside cafe, at the other. The unspoilt sparseness of the prom is part of its charm, but this attractive distraction is quite welcome. Promenaders can partake from a simple menu of teas, coffee and cake at the scattering of tables and chairs, but if the sea breezes prove too bracing, you can take these away too. If the vintage vehicle, elegantly mismatching crockery and colourful appliqued banner doesn't endear you to the enterprise, you'll be charmed by the chalk board announcing 'Free squash for kids'. The idea for the pop-up cafe was born when the team took over the shipping container that sat incongurously on the prom last year. That initiative was a part of the 2011 Cornwall Design Season, but popularity spurred them onto finding a marginally more permanent home. It all seemed so perfect and obvious, but it was no easy journey to get there; an ocean of bureaucracy nearly sunk the scheme. But thanks to the perseverance of the crew, the caravan is now a regular feature on the Penzance seafront; moored and open for business (weather permitting) on weekends and school holidays from May to October.
Images © Nik Strangelove
Thursday, 26 April 2012
Street Archaeology : Scrambled messages
Not wanting to be forgotten, history bleeds through the skin of our modern environment. Age fades the evidence, but traces remain of long-gone lives and previous purposes, from fifty, one hundred or two hundred years ago. These painted signs, that once shouted for attention, now whisper, distorted by decay and the veil of time's detritus.
Words © Dee and Gerard Ivall.
Images © Nik Strangelove
Monday, 16 April 2012
New-school Newlyn
At the tender age of 29, Cornish boy Sam Bassett recently hung his first main solo show, Torn Anima, which is on until 24th April at the Millennium Gallery in St.Ives. Not wanting to attempt to describe the work – we'd prefer that you take it at face value when you go – we'll just say that it's unexpected. Not what you'd normally get from a Cornish artist certainly; no boats, no cliffs, no sunsets and no seagulls. Amidst the chiming voices of the local art vernacular, Sam's work speaks a separate, distinctly singular, language. So, above all, we were interested to know how Sam viewed his place in the local art scene and its celebrated heritage.
We visited Sam in his Newlyn home,
where he has lived for just two years with his wife Sonya. The house,
it turns out, belonged to a relative, many years ago. So for Sam,
while having been born in St. Ives, buying this special place was a
reclamation of his Newlyn roots. His grandfather was also a Newlyn man,
and an early inspiration for the young artist. Sam recalls the
occasions when his grandpa would buy him new art books, and hide
them in the tumble dryer for the young boy to discover. Growing up in
St. Ives, Sam was naturally exposed to the successful local painters
of the time; visiting art shows of key figures like Terry Frost, Ben
Nicholson, Bob Crossley, Roger Hilton and Breon O'Casey. While his
current style appears to inhabit another place entirely, he readily
admits that those people influenced the way he applies paint, uses
materials and approaches his work. The craft of painting and
construction of a piece is definitely Sam's thing. But this wasn't
his initial calling: after taking an art foundation course at
Falmouth, Sam studied Illustration at Bournemouth with a view to
becoming a commercial illustrator in London. But he remembers that
while other students would be finalising their work on the computer,
he would still be hammering things together. It was his love of
process that eventually led him to leave his stable career path and
flee to the somewhat more unpredictable life of a fully-fledged
artist. His early work did inspire him in one way: the layering
technique that grew out of computer-based illustration would
noticeably carry though into his painted art. Another reason why Sam
pulled away from his original profession, was that he found clients
and the projects restricting. As Sam neatly puts it: 'Commercial work
has to be cautious – I don't like caution'. This is true; his last
show, at the Cornwall Contemporary gallery, was a collaborative one,
where artists were free to dismember each others work. Sam isn't
afraid to play with taboos either, and his art could be seen as
challenging to some. He has also dabbled in some pretty weird
performance art, and he describes a film he made in which he is
sailing a wardrobe, singing sea shanties and painting. 'It was
great', he says, 'but then you think, who the **** wants to watch
this?'
So why did the change of heart in his trade lead Sam home to Cornwall? Surely his illustrative style owed more to urban art than a rural environment. Sam says he doesn't really know where he fits. Fair enough, these days artists can collaborate and form groups over the internet, so the sense of place isn't quite as important as it was. Stanhope Forbes and the Newlyn artists flocked together because of light and to document a scenario and an industry. But Sam and his artist friends have more of an individualistic approach to art, process and themes, and as Sam explains quaintly: 'it's less of an outlook and more of an inlook'. In this respect, he says he could work anywhere, but is quick to point out that the local landscape always creeps in, embedded into the background. So Cornwall does inspire him. In fact, the colours he picks come from the scenery – but it's just not obvious to an onlooker. Local people too have a massive impact on his work; being all about memory and observation, Sam' artistic themes draw direct inspiration from the characters and personal relationships from his life here.
When Sam first came back, he had a show at Debbie Hall’s Orchard Gallery in St. Ives. He was surprised that they wanted to do something different. And locals appreciating and buying his work gave him confidence to think that people down here were up for new things, and he wasn't walking into a 'commercially-viable only' market. Sam loves that local galleries are pushing it. His view on the cultural scene is heartening: 'All I know is that in culture, music, art, whatever, you need diversity to be able to survive, otherwise things become boring. I'm happy to be in a town that can appeal to a good diversity of people'. Sam is clearly excited about the local art scene today: 'at the moment there's a great energy, with new studios and quite a few people creating – there's ongoing creativity here'. The show at Millennium was a specific ambition of Sam's. And with that under his belt, his next goal is to secure funding. This will enable him to push further with risky subjects and large experiments, and ultimately create a substantial body of work for a local public gallery. But he's also been contacted by galleries overseas, so Sam Basset may soon have a significantly wider audience. We asked him how he would label himself to a this international market, a Cornish artist? a Newlyn artist? He reiterated that art today is less about 'place', but he acknowledges his heritage, and his website proudly announces that he's a 'Cornish contemporary artist'. So other than some historical family ties, why did Sam choose Newlyn as his present home over St. Ives? 'It just feels a bit more real', he says. You can't argue with that.
Sam's age is part of his appeal as an artist, so it's interesting to hear that the Millennium's next subject will be Trevor Bell, who is 82 this year. Sam, who has just turned 30, is at the other end of the scale in terms of experience. It is another way in which he sits apart from the norm. He says he feels privileged to be recognised so early on in his career, but when we asked him if his youth is an integral part of his art, his answer was simple: 'I think I'll always have a young head'. He hopes age will bring a different pace – enabling him to slow down and make some iconic pieces, but he wants to stay spontaneous and prolific. But Sam is already changing. He hints that future work might be inspired by nature; as a child he was fascinated by wildlife and would draw birds for hours. So his sense of place may be stronger than he imagined after all.
So why did the change of heart in his trade lead Sam home to Cornwall? Surely his illustrative style owed more to urban art than a rural environment. Sam says he doesn't really know where he fits. Fair enough, these days artists can collaborate and form groups over the internet, so the sense of place isn't quite as important as it was. Stanhope Forbes and the Newlyn artists flocked together because of light and to document a scenario and an industry. But Sam and his artist friends have more of an individualistic approach to art, process and themes, and as Sam explains quaintly: 'it's less of an outlook and more of an inlook'. In this respect, he says he could work anywhere, but is quick to point out that the local landscape always creeps in, embedded into the background. So Cornwall does inspire him. In fact, the colours he picks come from the scenery – but it's just not obvious to an onlooker. Local people too have a massive impact on his work; being all about memory and observation, Sam' artistic themes draw direct inspiration from the characters and personal relationships from his life here.
When Sam first came back, he had a show at Debbie Hall’s Orchard Gallery in St. Ives. He was surprised that they wanted to do something different. And locals appreciating and buying his work gave him confidence to think that people down here were up for new things, and he wasn't walking into a 'commercially-viable only' market. Sam loves that local galleries are pushing it. His view on the cultural scene is heartening: 'All I know is that in culture, music, art, whatever, you need diversity to be able to survive, otherwise things become boring. I'm happy to be in a town that can appeal to a good diversity of people'. Sam is clearly excited about the local art scene today: 'at the moment there's a great energy, with new studios and quite a few people creating – there's ongoing creativity here'. The show at Millennium was a specific ambition of Sam's. And with that under his belt, his next goal is to secure funding. This will enable him to push further with risky subjects and large experiments, and ultimately create a substantial body of work for a local public gallery. But he's also been contacted by galleries overseas, so Sam Basset may soon have a significantly wider audience. We asked him how he would label himself to a this international market, a Cornish artist? a Newlyn artist? He reiterated that art today is less about 'place', but he acknowledges his heritage, and his website proudly announces that he's a 'Cornish contemporary artist'. So other than some historical family ties, why did Sam choose Newlyn as his present home over St. Ives? 'It just feels a bit more real', he says. You can't argue with that.
Sam's age is part of his appeal as an artist, so it's interesting to hear that the Millennium's next subject will be Trevor Bell, who is 82 this year. Sam, who has just turned 30, is at the other end of the scale in terms of experience. It is another way in which he sits apart from the norm. He says he feels privileged to be recognised so early on in his career, but when we asked him if his youth is an integral part of his art, his answer was simple: 'I think I'll always have a young head'. He hopes age will bring a different pace – enabling him to slow down and make some iconic pieces, but he wants to stay spontaneous and prolific. But Sam is already changing. He hints that future work might be inspired by nature; as a child he was fascinated by wildlife and would draw birds for hours. So his sense of place may be stronger than he imagined after all.
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
Built Legacy : Halcyon Days
It is a distinctive period in architecture, but styles did vary considerably: in these two examples we can see the lingering influence of the Arts & Crafts movement and the new Art Deco style.
In addition to the many private houses, several local public buildings and amenities were constructed during this dynamic decade, including the marvellous Jubilee Bathing Pool – a more powerful statement of a British town expressing a positive sense of identity would be hard to find.
Words © Dee and and Gerard Ivall. Images © Nik Strangelove
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