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Places that are still there #2: The Cosmoba, Bloomsbury

Thursday, February 25th, 2010
Picture of the Cosmoba

The Cosmoba, restaurant in Bloomsbury off Southampton Row

I can’t walk anywhere in Bloomsbury without being wistfully rushed back in time to when I was a student at the School of Slavonic and East European Studies back in 1978-81. And nowhere holds more potent memories for me of that time than the Cosmoba in Cosmo place just off Southampton Row.  God rot the internet, however much I may love it: when I try to think what was so special about the Cosmoba, it’s not just that it was in a tiny corner of London that feels like a wonderful guilty secret, it was the warmth of friends, conversation and being out and about after dark.

So last year when, after about 28 years of losing contact, I met up with my  friend  Jackie from college, we decided to see if by any remote chance the Cosmoba was still there. Well, would you believe it, there it was, and it seemed much the same in so many ways, even down to the red wine, chicken kiev and zabaglione that was about the only thing I would ever order, once I’d found out how good it was.

We’re going again soon, so since I was cycling past Cosmo place on my way back from the IoE on Monday, I thought I’d double check that it’s still still there. And yes, it is.

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Come on in, the water’s lovely: what swimming teaches about procrastination

Monday, February 1st, 2010

Dunwich in Suffolk last summer

At the pool yesterday, I was fascinated to watch a group of  5-year olds having their swimming lesson. One instructor was in the pool ready to catch the poor things when the other instructor, on the side of the pool, ‘encouraged’ them to jump into the water.

A few were quite easy and nonchalant about it, and just dropped themselves in and swam to the steps. But others had emotions ranging from mild distress to pure terror. One just cried and cried and shook his head and his hands and stepped backwards from the edge  in a combination of gestures that couldn’t have said ‘no’ more loudly if they tried.

I smiled, not because I’m cruel, but because I had a feeling that the same child would pretty soon probably enjoy jumping into the water, and might even like  the slight frisson of terror as he does so.  How is it possible to be so upset and terrified and apprehensive, and yet be so wrong?

I smiled also because all that little-boy stepping back from the edge, tears, apprehension and hand- and head-shaking is remarkably similar to how I feel when I know that I have an essay to write or some other big, complex task.  Talking to friends, I discover that I’m not the only one with an ingenious array of techniques for avoiding starting stuff – the best one being ‘I’d better do the washing up first’. Curi0usly, on most days, I’d happily leave the washing up until tomorrow.

Watching those kids trying to jump in the pool made me think that the thing with procrastination is that it’s not a fear of the thing you’ve got to do, it’s apprehension about jumping into it. Surely, you think to yourself, the best way to start is to prepare, to ease yourself in gently, to wait until it feels right, to let yourself acclimatize to your working conditions, to make everything around you comfortable and convenient.

In life as in swimming, this is nonsense.  If you’ve ever swum in the sea in England, you’ll know that there’ll never be a good time to get yourself in the water. Whether it’s an essay or the English channel, it’s there, it’s cold, you have to get on with it and jump in.

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Learning to speak dog

Thursday, January 14th, 2010

Chris (L) & VIcky (R), Czech dog.

My favourite story of the day: how staff at an animal home thought a dog was deaf until they discovered it had come from a Polish household and therefore only responded to commands in Polish. The story brings back fond memories of Prague last summer, when Chris baby-sat   Vicky the lesbian German Shepherd for a day (pictured left). Vicky’s owner handed over the dog to Chris together with a slip of paper with Czech dog commands on. Despite my background as a linguist, it hadn’t occurred to me that they’d need it. Strange that some humans are treated with less compassion – think of the dancers all over the world who have commands barked at them in French.

And while we’re on the subject, if you need to say ‘Go away bird’ or ‘Come here, cow’, then this list of multilingual animal commands will be invaluable.

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Give to East Cheshire Hospice

Sunday, October 11th, 2009
In training

In training

Get your credit cards out…

On November 7th, best pal & favourite choreographer Christopher Hampson is running the marathon in aid of the East Cheshire Hospice, who looked after David Fielding in his last days.  Not one to do things by halves, Chris is running the marathon – from Marathon to Athens.  He’s currently up to £705 of the £1,000 target.

Go to http://www.justgiving.com/hampy/ to donate.


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From casting to casting-on

Thursday, June 25th, 2009
Chris, in Beccles Sewing & Handicraft, November 2007

Chris, in Beccles Sewing & Handicraft, November 2007

Choreographers and all creative people fascinate me. It’s the bits in between that I’m interested in – what does a composer, artist, choreographer etc. do when they’re not creating?

For that reason, and a few others, I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud of a friend as when I got a google alert telling me that there was a mention of best mate Christopher Hampson, renowned choreographer (of course) in a review of a book about knitting in the US.

Dindy Yokel, the Atlanta Literature examiner, reviews a book about the social networking affordances of knitting in a book by Suzyn Jackson called ‘Knit it Together’ over at Examiner.com.

“Christopher Hampson” she says, “a London-based choreographer who guests with the Atlanta Ballet took up knitting to pass the time he spends on airplanes and waiting in airports.  When in Atlanta he can be found between rehearsals at Knitch working on something lush, cashmere and black.”

I’m proud on two accounts. Firstly, a good knitting review has real gravitas because knitting writers can usually knit, expertly. You don’t join that circle easily. But secondly, I’m proud because I happened to be there when it all started, back in November 2007 at the Beccles Sewing & Handicraft shop, after a gorgeous weekend with old friends Alice & Andrew.  We were a bit hungover from the night before, and passing a knitting shop, Chris decided to rekindle an old hobby, and the ladies in the Beccles were marvellous, and inducted him back into knitting in the shop, on the spot.  If you’re interested in gender studies, imagine that a 35 year old woman went into Homebase and said she was interested in board-cutting.Guess who’s doing well in a recession.

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Taking sides

Thursday, June 18th, 2009

When one of my friends says ‘I saw this and thought of you’, you can bet it’s not a kiss-me-quick hat or Behind the scenes at The Apprentice. ‘It’s a play about music and nazis!’ was what Chris said when he announced he was taking me out for a birthday treat, and oh boy, was it right up my street.  Taking Sides is Ronald Harwood’s exploration of the moral, social, political and philosophical questions surrounding music and power, seen through the lens of the interrogation of the conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler by an American officer in Berlin after the war.

For as long as I’ve disliked Wagner and Wagnerites, and especially since I read Fred K Priebke’s Musik und Macht I’ve had countless arguments about this subject, partcularly with people who claim music is pure, beyond politics, and independent of the person or context that gave rise to it. And yet, just when you think you’ve banged the last logical nail in the argument, up comes a piece of music that you want to dislike, and it just hits you straight in the gut nevertheless. Or vice versa – knowing the context of a piece that you’ve liked all your life has the power to change your view instantly.  Taking Sides dealt with the complexity of this enormous subject brilliantly.

The subject won’t go away, either. Only last year, Gary Glitter’s music was removed from a GCSE paper. While not condoning child abuse, I do wonder why Gary Glitter’s music doesn’t transcend his personal life, whereas the music of other composers with known tendencies to anti-semitism or pederasty isn’t given the same treatment. It is well documented that those panels depicting the stations of the cross at Westminster Cathedral were created by a sculptor who abused his own daughters, yet they’re still there.  Discuss…

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The sky at night

Wednesday, June 3rd, 2009

A very special 50th, a very special evening in London.

The Thames from Canary wharf, at 9.30 last night

The Thames from Canary wharf, at 9.30 last night

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