The Tone Generation

The Tone Generation is a radio series by Ian Helliwell ‘looking at different themes or composers in the era of analogue tape and early synthesizer technology’. The original globe-trotting series: Great Britain, France, Germany, Italy, Holland, Scandinavia, Eastern Europe, USA, Canada, Rest of World. Bonus programmes: Expo 58, The RCA Synthesizer. All links are to MP3 files, except the first one. Alternatively, you can slurp down the lot in one go by subscribing to the podcast feed.

Theatre of the New Ear

Theatre of the New Ear. Two radio plays: one by Charlie Kaufman, the other by the Coen Brothers, recorded live and starring Steve Buscemi, John Goodman, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Meryl Streep.

The Coen Brothers’ Sawbones can be downloaded from the site linked above, or streamed along with Kaufman’s Hope Leaves the Theatre here. Via Subtraction.

L’Officiel de la Couture et de la Mode

A complete archive of French magazine L’Officiel de la Mode, from 1921 to 2008. It’s a treasure trove for fans of fashion, photography, advertising and design.

Architecture, Sampled And Remixed

Dionisio González makes photographs of imaginary favelas, Filip Dujardin makes photographs of imaginary buildings.

The Demarco Digital Archive

The Demarco Digital Archive holds 10,000 images and documents gathered by Richard Demarco, gallerist, Beuys collaborator, founder of the Traverse theatre and a key figure on the Scottish arts scene since the ’60s.

The Lost Synthesizer Classics of Ursula Bogner

It seems almost incredible that Ursula Bogner’s musical talents should have remained undiscovered until now.

Pieces in the Times and the Sunday Herald both focus on artist Shahin Memishi. Seeking asylum in Glasgow, having been forced to flee his native Kosovo, Memishi (an art teacher) had something of a revelation on seeing work by the so-called New Glasgow Boys for the first time, and this show matches his portraits of the artists he admires with examples of their work.

I’m absolutely not having a go at the writers of these pieces. The curatorial conceit of showing a relatively unknown artist alongside the old guard who inspired him is intriguing, the story of Memishi finding succour in their work is a good, moving one, and a show featuring work by Steven Campbell, Ken Currie and Peter Howson is certainly newsworthy. Also newsworthy is the fact that the works by these artists are from a private collection, and are all for sale. Hmmn.

Anyway, here’s the thing: it’s an awful show. Awful. There’s some good stuff, sure, but none of it is by Memishi, and the hang is farcical. Half the paintings are at wonky angles, a few are sat on the floor, and a decent set of Peter Howson drawings is placed so high on the wall that you’d need to stand on a chair to get a good look at them. One of Memishi’s paintings is set on an easel right in front of a Ken Currie, obscuring it completely. The late Steven Campbell’s name is spelled ‘Stephen’, on the label beside his painting and in the title of Memishi’s portrait. Really. To me, that looks more like an insult to Currie and Campbell than a tribute. And so do Memishi’s paintings, however well-meant they may be. They don’t make you want to claw your eyes out in horror or anything, but they’re the sort of thing you see in those gallery-cum-shops that sell inoffensive stuff by local artists alongside novelty tea-towels and jewellry made by hobbyist housewives. I’m amazed that his subjects, having seen his work, agreed to sit for him (Campbell didn’t, for obvious reasons, but I’m told the rest did). And I nearly got the giggles when reading in the Times that Memishi is, according to Ally Thompson, ‘one of a new breed of European artists galvanising the city’s art scene’. This is not the case.

So, the show doesn’t deserve the oxygen of publicity - it should’ve been suffocated at birth! - but it drew more press than any exhibition in Scotland since the big Emin retrospective and Campbell’s posthumous showing of new work.

My point, I suppose, is that it’s depressing that the visual arts only make the news pages when there’s a whiff of scandal, a record-breaking auction or, as in this case, a heart-warming tale to be told. These things don’t have very much to do with art. My other point is that you shouldn’t waste your time visiting ArtDeCaf this month. Not for the art, anyway, though I feel duty bound to report that they make a pretty decent plate of scrambled eggs.

Update: My review of the show was spiked, for reasons I probably shouldn’t relate here, but you can read it on my Work weblog, if you like.