onionbagblog

Remember those blizzard blowing days back in the Great Winter of, um, 2010? Snow drifts from Broad Lane down to Wivenhoe Bookshop, I tell you. The conditions provided either the perfect picture postcard backdrop for the turning on of the Wivenhoe Christmas lights, or a right bloody pain in the backside, depending on your point of view.

I personally took the opportunity of the trains being buggered to go on holiday in Wivenhoe by mistake. Most other commuters took the very same strategic decision.

And so in these balmy days of the fag end of the Indian summer, why the chuffers is he bangin’ on about bloody Christmas?

Comrades: news reaches me of the date for the grand turning on of the Wivenhoe Christmas Lights, 2011. Thursday 1st December is the diary date - if these don’t turn you on then you ‘aint got no switches. St Mary’s will become an illicit meeting place for the North Essex wing of Illumination Nymphomaniacs.

See you there, Madam.

St Mary’s of course will also become the setting for the traditional late night shopping and Christmas Market. If local traders can put in the extra effort to open all hours, then I like to think that even my penny-pinching ways can lend a little support.

That will be a double jumbo saveloy for me at Papa’s, then.

Ahead of the Big Turn On, I hear that a reckie has already been carried out on the cupola at St Mary’s. Some quite stunning photographs have also been sourced, including the capturing on camera of the latest little visitors to the wonky Wivenhoe tower of fun.

Awwww.

They won’t last the big freeze.

As for the snow itself? Short of shipping in some fake snow to add some arctic ambience to the occasion, my scientific method of licking my finger, pointing it in the direction of Fingringhoe and allowing the Fairy Weather Gods to fill my mind of what is to come, rather rationally informs me that… it’s gonna get colder.

Cripes.

What we need is an ever-helpful Wivenhoe Town Council to pour boiling hot oils down every back passage (steady) around the town. What we’ve actually got is an ever-helpful Wivenhoe Town Council that under extreme financial restrictions is already organising the ordering of grit.

Grrrrreat.

I have been told that access routes will be prioritied - Valley Road and Queens Road are apparently high up on the list (although access to the latter is strictly a hush hush affair, but the dip is a bit of a bugger and I certainly wouldn’t fancy landing on my arse right in front of the good folk of the Queens Road Resident’s Association - snow or no snow.)

So yeah, Wivenhoe: the countdown has started to the Great Turn On.

Buzzing, me.

To The Greyhound! …on Sunday evening for the second Radio Wivenhoe pub quiz. Much like the station itself, these fundraising quizzes are gaining in local support, technical expertise and soft rock.

Any pub quiz that can seamlessly combine Glenn Miller and Arrested Development on the same answer sheet must signify a station that is as inclusive as it is eclectic. I was half expecting a Basket Weavers of Wivenhoe Traditional Folk Songs section.

And your chosen subject Mr Cobb?

Um… That will be coming close but no cigar in guessing the answers. We’re not talking about Thomas Dolby songs, either.

My mood was lifted upon seeing Mr Mule on the table next to me punching the air on identifying the song and singer. And the answer?

Britney Spears. Blimey.

Whoops, Mr Mule Did It Again, etc.

With half an eye on Halloween, the Quizmaster Supreme appeared ahead of round two with a seasonal themed costume. Can your guess what it is yet? Um… Probably not a master butcher, as was the suggestion from @AnnaJCowen.

Which proved to be the only half decent answer from The Girl all evening. Confusion came over one quarter of team We Are The Resurrection (natch) when the entire Greyhound broke out in a pub sing-along of David Essex’s ACE Hold Me Close.

Every cloud has a silver lining, and in the case of the Radio Wivenhoe pub quiz, this surfaced in the form of the first to put up their hand and guess an answer gets to walk home with the goodies. I was sadly left scratching my arse.

“What is a harmonic interval?” asked Mr Quizmaster Supreme.

Is it the beer break when the queue for the gents at The Greyhound randomly breaks out it into a rendition of Lionel Ritchie’s Running With the Night?

Nope. That would just be taking the piss.

But they’re a generous crowd at The Greyhound. Just over £150 was raised on the night for the funds for the fledgling radio station. The serious side to the evening was that as the ambitions of the station start to get serious, so do the outlays.

A studio base at the Business Centre is imminent, as is the paying of the various bills that this will bring. For ten teams to turn out on a Sunday night, shows that awareness of Radio Wivenhoe is growing around the town.

And so in true pop pickers style, that top ten countdown of pub quiz pioneers somehow managed to have a new entry with a bullet breaking into the top three for team We Are The Resurrection (natch). Once again, close but no cigar, but a rather generous box of Milk Tray instead.

And all because the lady (yeah, right…) got slightly tiddly on The Greyhound booze and scoffed all the hazelnuts on the short walk back to the base. I’m more of a soft centred sort of bloke. But definitely not soft rock.

Not ‘alf.

The concept behind Colchester 24 was simple: capture on camera life in Britain’s Oldest Recorded during one twenty-four hour period in the early Autumn of 2011. It is a social experiment that was first put in place back in 1986. A quarter of a century later seems like the ideal timeframe in which to revisit the process.

Much has changed of course since those mid ’80s days when Thatcherism was about to peak and destroy whatever was left of society. The Westminster macro economic policies provided wealth for some, poverty for others; High Streets had the same paradox - M & S sat uncomfortably with 99p stores. The Big Issue was about to be launched on to our streets.

Same as it ever was, Comrades. Same as it ever was.

And so on Saturday morning I ventured into Sunny Colch to try and capture a personal snapshot of what I could see around me. This was no grand artistic statement - it was simply one man and his hit and miss SLR, poking it around where perhaps it shouldn’t be poked around.

I wasn’t alone.

It seemed as though there was almost an underground army of amateur snappers working the streets of Sunny Colch, all part of the online Colchester 24 network and all now emerging from behind the cover of bedroom darkrooms and going public with their love of digital photography.

For all the recurring themes on the streets of Sunny Colch when compared with those mid ’80s power dressing days of Thatcherite principles, it is the process of photography that is the main force for social change.

The medium is the message, ‘n all that - I couldn’t but help think that Colchester 24 in 2011 is now a much more open, democratic and plain easy task to complete when compared with 1986.

You don’t even need to own a Fancy Dan high end DSLR to take part - many snappers were finding that a camera phone was sufficient, capturing an instant moment that would otherwise be lost in the social history of time as a busy shopping town continues to evolve.

Colchester 24 wasn’t seeking to achieve technical brilliance - it was more about the moment. The true social value will probably only be realised in another twenty-five years when the project can be re-evaluated.

Emphasis was placed upon capturing the mundane. Social historians aren’t interested only in civic occasions and the changing face of the High Street. A personal family moment offering a glimpse of life in 2011 probably helps to tell the social story with far greater image and clarity.

I of course played the easy option and went off wandering down Colchester High Street. Well - not quite…

I did the rat run down Queen Street, Osbourne Street and Headgate, taking risks and being slightly cheeky with my lens. It is a way of working that I have undertook for almost a decade back in South London.

The Way We See It project offered up a similar social history, setting a location for an online network of photographers to document each week. Sadly the project came to a close, and the website is but a shell, hacked to shreds by the spammers.

I did learn fast on my feet though, picking up the social boundaries between the flaneur photographer and his subject matter. Flatter your subject matter; don’t capture images that you would feel uncomfortable with yourself if you were on the other side of the lens. Always look ahead and plot a possible escape route.

It didn’t come to this of course in Sunny Colch on Saturday. There was a lovely understanding between the shoppers and snappers. Many folk were only to keen offer up a pose and chat about the possibilities that the project presents.

I’ll probably be too old to repeat this experiment in another quarter of a century. I returned back to base on Saturday afternoon with a painful reminder that this is a young person’s game. All that squatting and kneeling on street corners left me crocked for the rest of the weekend.

As for the message or story that is there to be told? There isn’t really one to be honest - that’s not the point. The ordinary, the mundane, the continuing procession of day-to-day life in Sunny Colch has had a snapshot of existence captured.

Nothing to see here.

Time to move along.

Full flick feed.

To The Minories! …on Saturday morning for the launch of the Pam Dan retrospective. By the time I had been to the Antiques Fair at the Congregational Hall, scrubbed up and bought a pumpkin (blimey) then it was more like mid-afternoon when Sunny Colch came-a-calling.

It seems that @AnnaJCowen and I weren’t the only Wivenhoe refugees that gathered at The Minories gallery to welcome in the opening afternoon of one of the leading and most popular artists from this hyperlocal patch.

From firstsite, along Queen Street and down to the old bus station - everywhere you walked it seemed had been claimed as a little part of Wivenhoe for the afternoon.

In an alternative Universe and I betcha that Wivenhoe is currently being overrun with Colchester locals flocking to the estuary wilds to witness the opening of a pack of Pringles, the traditional culinary dish for all things Camulodunum.

Walking into the Minories through the secret backdoor was like walking into a Suffolk reed bed transported to the edge of the town. Which is probably the effect that Pam was seeking to achieve, with the exhibition celebrating five decades of her capturing the wildlife centred on Snape Maltings.

A graduate of the Colchester School of Art, Pam’s interest and inspiration comes from the very same patch where she first learned her trade. This is often a forgotten landscape within the food chain of English elitist art.

If it was good enough for Constable back in the day then it’s good enough for me to sit down with my sketchbook on a lost summer’s afternoon out along Ferry Marsh. I still always end up playing noughts and crosses against myself, mind; I still manage to lose.

But anyway - what of The Minories?

As a contemporary of Wirth-Miller and Bacon, Pam’s passion is for adding light to landscape scenes, and then presenting them as almost mythical magical gardens. That was my interpretation, anyway.

Exhibiting at The Minories is a collection of Pam’s work covering the period from 1969 onwards. Many of these pieces of work are very kindly on loan from private collections. This is the first time that Pam has seen some of the work for herself for a couple of decades.

And then just as I turned another corner in the art space and walked into seemingly another layer of the transported reed beds, it all got a little delayed; it also all got a little wonky.

The opening afternoon parlour game of Who’s Who in Wivenhoe continued, and then with a squinted gaze across the room, and soon conversation and white wine was being shared with the good Scoop Scarpenter, publisher of the organ of esteemed truth and justice.

What followed was a half hour of constructive dialogue all about the merits of hyperlocal blogging pitched against the lofty heights of proper printed journalism.

Cripes.

Advice was passed down from the proper print to the hyperlocal upstart, but as I argued at the time, a hit and miss blog is a hit and miss blog, and *not* hard news.

Who? What? Where? Why? When?

Bugger that. Just tell us another silly joke, Jase.

The friendly fire dialogue somehow managed to meet in the middle. Hands were shaken (tightly..) numbers were exchanged, pints were promised. All facilitated by the mighty fine Pam Dan exhibition at The Minories.

Phew - rock ‘n roll.

And so with guarded apologies (sort of) to Scoop, the Pam Dan exhibition is rather ace. It’s not the most objective analysis that you will receive but then I’ve never been a blogger that lets his prejudices get lost in the way of the words.

I’ve got a cracking lead all about my Wivenhoe pumpkin to write up later.

Art or arse?

Just ACE.

The Pam Dan exhibition continues until 6 December and the Gallery is open Monday to Saturday from 10.00am to 4.00pm.

It’s the publication that is so good that it ganders two book launches.

Blimey.

And if you promise to be on your best behaviour and don’t neck all the posho crisps, you could probably just about get away with attending both local lavish occasions. I certainly intend to dine out on a fine diet of salt and vinegar kettle crisps, cheesy sticks and white plonk over the coming weeks.

And the occasion for such lavish indulgence? The launch of Martin Newell’s latest publication, The Stars on a Tray - selected writings from Mr Mule’s Saturday column in the East Anglian Daily Times.

Spreading his love, as ever, Mr Mule is celebrating the occasion here in Wivenhoe, as well as down the road in Sunny Colch. Thursday 3rd November at the wonderful Wivenhoe Bookshop is the first sitting for the Kettle crisps.

You can then munch away to the sound of Mr Mule reading some twenty-four hours later at the golden goose of firstsite down the road in Britain’s Oldest Recorded.

The writings draw upon the work that has led the Joy of Essex column to pick up the Columnist of the Year award. Contained within are twisted Essex tales of Old Knobbly, St Cedd’s sandals and Paolozzi’s rural Essex retreat. The film rights alone must be worth a round or two at The Greyhound.

The delightful light touch front cover is instantly recognisable as the work of local artist Hillary Lazell. Never judge a book by its cover etc, but the poster girl just about the gets the nod over the rugged good looks of Mr Mule.

Stars on a Tray is the first publication from the new Autumn Girl venture. Copies will of course be available at both the Bookshop and firstsite. Kettle crisps come at no extra charge.

To @firstsite! …on Thursday evening for a bit on the side. Not that sort Madam, but a bit of moonlighting mixed in with some Colchester social history. The event traded under the grand name of Camulodunum: Image and Reality. In short it was time to put up or shut up with all those long held myths about Sunny Colch.

A slight confusion ahead of the moonlighting and the setting up of my tech gear - apologies to the good Lady Mayor of Colchester for gate crashing a slightly over running local ding dong.

Whoops.

With the auditorium vacated of local civic ding dongers, soon it was time for the main event. How apt that the inaugural firstsite lecture should so proudly address a local theme of identity. It is a theme that firstsite itself is fast coming to terms with, but under consideration on Thursday was Sunny Colch itself.

Local historian Andrew Phillips was invited to deliver the inaugural address, and proved to be a popular choice. The auditorium was close to capacity with a more mature crowd coming out to enjoy the social space that firstsite is now able to offer to the town.

Amongst his many local historical achievements, Andrew fronts up the Colchester Recalled oral history project. He is probably the town’s leading local historian, and if he put his time to it, could also probably cut it as a leading local stand up comedian.

The focus for Camulodnum was for a social history of Sunny Colch with some added twisted social humour to bring to life all those ancient artifacts. We’re talking about the Roman relics here, and not the fine folk that had filled the firstsite auditorium.

And so in the week that the Stone Roses reformed, it is perhaps appropriate that Andrew led with its not where you’re from, it’s where you’re at. The self-image of Sunny Colch is steeped in all things Camulodunum, which unlike the Romans shows no sign of retreat.

But truth and fiction can become inbred. Don’t even talk about Humpty Dumpty, you numpty - well, not yet, anyway.

From Helena to Henry VIII, Andrew elaborated on how Britain’s Oldest Recorded had been in search for a martyr. I nominate Saint Bob.

The English Civil War did bring celebrated warriors in the Siege of Sunny Colch. All of that muscular (and slightly sexy) Colchester conflict came to a halt with the Victorian re-writing of the public persona of Sunny Colch.

Out went aggression; in came a wider High Street, fresh air and clean water. But no Aldi. Which is why the Victorians represent my least favourite personal period in history.

Antiquity and museums were back on the agenda, an austere image that can still be found in the town today. In the absence of a local Cathedral then the civic Town Hall was constructed, rich on symbolism, not so when it comes to historical accuracy.

Andrew explained how the “groping Victorians” were busy dig, dig, digging and doing their best to try and capture some form of romanticised Roman identity for the town. It may be a funny man dressed in a skirt and sandals, but at least he’s *our* funny man dressed in a skirt and sandals.

St Helena was once again celebrated along with oysters. Tasty. The Oysters are rather nice as well.

And then the Humpty Dumpty moment came, with the great Sunny Colch myth being de-mythicised. No one likes a fat bastard as a hyperlocal hero.

We had a back to the future rational explanation as to why Britain’s Oldest Recorded is so inaccurate - it’s all about definitions: What is meant by recorded, and what does a town mean?

Basildon wins hands down with that tag apparently.

Only joking.

Andrew argued for the Arts Capital of Essex as a better chest beater to take us forward for the next one thousand years. Camulodunum has become a town of newcomers, all sucked into the estuary and looking to create a new shared sense for Colchester, without pissing all over the past.

I’m paraphrasing here, Comrades.

The inaugural firstsite lecture concluded with the paradox of how the quest to build a new town has led to a continued passion for archeology. This sentiment is captured perfectly when you consider that the centerpiece of the golden Goose of firstsite is the most splendid Berryfield mosaic.

Q & A’s followed, showing a wonderful passion for local history. All shared knowledge has to be good knowledge.

The scepticism of the firstsite cynics was answered by the inaugural lecture. This is a social space that is not elitist, not anti- mainstream and most definitely not empty given the packed auditorium.

Andrew Phillips was tremendous fun as well.

The image of Camuldunum may be one of adventure and silly sandals, but the reality is something ever changing and adapting, much like firstsite itself. But without the silly sandals.

Can it really be half a calendar month since the esteemed organ of truth and justice last landed on the doormats of Wivenhoe? Not quite a couple of weeks, but the publishing schedule of The Chronicle sometimes runs with the same reliability that we have come to expect from National Express East Anglia [um, NSFW...]

Which is no bad thing. Trains should be punctual; hyperlocal hard news just happens. You wouldn’t want to be filling the front page of The Brightlingsea and Wivenhoe Chronicle with churnalism twaddle - that’s what hyperlocal blogs are for, Comrades.

So what wonders await the doormats of Wivenhoe [*not* a metaphor] for this fortnight? Fending off property developers, fireworks and radio fun days. You know where you can stick one of these up another, leaving the remaining front page news as simply something’s that is, um, fun.

First off we have:

Meeting Votes to Retain Public Open Space

Scoop Scarpenter explains how the revolting locals of Wivenhoe convened upon the William Loveless Hall [where else?] and told Jenny Moody Properties of Malden to keep it’s house building hungry ambitions away from the land opposite Millfield School:

“More than 170 local residents attended the recent public meeting to listen, discuss and vote on proposals regarding the possible development of public open space facing the Millfield Junior School.”

Listening, discussing and voting are indeed what took place. Plus don’t forget the unanimous backing the revolters of Wivenhoe gave to Wivenhoe Town Council in its continued opposition to the local redevelopment plans coming from Jenny Moody Properties of Malden.

Scoop adds:

“The grassward [geddin there!] has been a centre of controversy following a decision by Elmstead Parish Council, who own the land, to sell it for development.”

The grassward will also hopefully soon have a village green status. Warm pints of beer, maidens on bicycles and a duck pond full of psycho Wivenhoe waders. That should be sufficient to scare off Jenny Moody Properties of Malden.

Meanwhile:

The Latest News on Radio Wivenhoe

Updates with… The latest news on Radio Wivenhoe. Talk about Tell It Like It Is:

“An afternoon of live music and entertainment held in the garden of The Greyhound successfully raised £300 for the recently launched Radio Wivenhoe.”

Ace.

Another of the highly enjoyable (and competitive) Radio Wivenhoe pub quizzes takes place on Sunday 23rd October, 7pm at The Greyhound. Expect plenty of soft rock. Plus some very generous prizes from the supportive local businesses.

If the property redevelopment or the pub quiz doesn’t turn you on, then you ain’t got no switches. What you need is a rocket up your backside, which brings us to:

Quayside’s Firework Spectacular

“A fireworks spectacular evening will be held in Wivenhoe on Saturday 30th October. The event will be held at the Quay and it will start with a children’s Halloween fancy dress competition, £1 entry, at 7pm.”

Don’t take Scoop Scarpenter’s spectacular speculation too lightly. The Quay is the perfect location for the WORC’s annual display. The water is illuminated, and the Rowhedge launching site makes for a safe display. Unless you live in the Rowhedge lagoons, that is.

Which could make for something of hyperlocal comedy script. Speaking of which:

Fawlty Towers Local Shows

“Tickets are now on sale for the local production of two episodes of the comedy TV series Fawlty Towers which will be performed in Wivenhoe next month. Directed by Shane Diggens from Wivenhoe, the episodes to be performed are The Hotel Inspectors and Communication Problems.

The production will be performed on 19th November, 8pm and 20th November 4pm and 8pm. Tickets are on sale at the Wivenhoe Bookshop and the Rose and Crown.”

As for the location? The William Loveless Hall.

Next contestant: Mr Jason Cobb from Wivenhoe. Specialist subject - the bleeding obvious.

Winter Tennis Locally

…tells of the grand plans to create an indoor tennis centre before the start of the winter tennis season next year.

“Funding has been provided to provide a bubble to cover the four courts at its present site, close to Wivenhoe Town Football Club.”

Which must make Wivenhoe now lacking in few specialist facilities. I often find myself drifting off to sleep however thinking what the town is in need of is a qualified audiologist.

Careful what you wish for:

Qualified Audiologist Joins Team

We’re not talking tennis, either. NOW HERE THIS:

“The Hearing Care Centre, which runs regular hearing care sessions at Wivenhoe Eyecare, welcomes a new member to its professional team. Qualified audiologist Richard Seaman has joined the hearing aid clinic and will have responsibility for the Wivenhoe branch.”

A very fine obituary is written for Joe Allard on p.4. Martin Newell adds:

“Joe was very important to me. He was my literary mentor. He issued me with my poetic licence.”

Pam Dan’s forthcoming Memories exhibition at the Minories in Colchester gets a mention on p.6:

“Running from 22nd October to 5th December, the exhibition will feature seventeen East Anglian reed paintings inspired by the area around Snape Maltings in Suffolk.”

With the Golden Goose of firstsite focussing on the more challenging side of art, this should hopefully mean that the Minories is now made available for local artists such as Pam. Admission is free…

The Chronicle’s almost contractual obligation to plug the Folk Club and the Comedy Club is obliged on p.8:

“Wivenhoe Folk Cub will be holding one if its popular open stage nights on 3rd November. These occasions provide a great evening of entertainment provided by local performers, singers, musicians, singer-songwriters, poets, storytellers, performers, duos and bands covering blues, folk, jazz, traditional and contemporary music.”

And strippers.

Only joking.

Which lead us to:

“The next meeting of Wivenhoe’s very own comedy club will be on 27th October when Marian Pashley will be the headliner.”

Film Club Celebrates Its Tenth Season

Tells of… The Wivenhoe Film Club celebrating its tenth season. I keep on hearing tremendous feedback about the Films being screened at The Nottage - not only for the astute choice, but also the accompanying food and drink that is themed around each film.

I’m waiting for American Pie before making an appearance.

And finally…

If you think that such a small North Essex estuary town is punching above its weight by supporting an esteemed organ of truth and justice (well, sharing it with Brightlingsea) then what about the *two* films clubs within Wivenhoe?

Moving Image and The Nottage both work wonders in keeping local film fans entertained. The Chronicle concludes the random fortnightly-ish publication run with confirmation of Moving Image prices:

“In the last issue of The Chronicle it was inadvertently stated that the price of tickets for non-members is £10; it is infact £6.”

The Esteemed Organ of Truth and Justice - The Movie…

I’d cough up a tenner to catch that.