Happy New Year 2017

Birmingham Town Hall, January 1981

Birmingham Town Hall, January 1981

Happy New to everyone for 2017!

In January, 1981, I visited Birmingham, UK, for an interview at Aston University. The photo above shows Birmingham Town Hall on a frosty and slightly snowy morning. The Town Hall is obviously a neo-classical design, and is based on the temple of Castor & Pollux in Rome.

Aston had in fact already made me an unconditional offer of acceptance, but I asked to attend for an interview anyway, to see what the campus was like. As it turned out, of course, I went to Imperial College, London, rather than Aston. Nonetheless, Aston was the first university to give me a “vote of confidence” at a time when many were shaking their heads about my prospects.

A Long-Forgotten Detail Rediscovered

david_xmastreerailway_croppedcrightFor the holiday season, here’s a slightly different “throwback” article.

When I was two years old, my parents bought me my first (clockwork) train set. The photo above, from Christmas 1963, shows me with everything set up under the Christmas tree, in the living room of our house in Scarborough.

Much later, the original train set developed into a “model railway” layout, which was permanently set up in the conservatory of our house. Although I was perhaps lucky that we had space for such a layout at all, a conservatory certainly wasn’t the ideal environment for it, since it was cold and very damp in winter, and exposed to direct sunlight in summer. As a result, the layout deteriorated to the point of unusability after a few years.

One summer evening, probably in 1973, I discovered that my father was taking photographs of the layout. At the time, I wished that he had let me know his plans beforehand, so that I’d have had a chance to “tidy up” the details as best I could. As it turned out, the photographs also left something to be desired! Nonetheless, two of those photos have survived in monochrome print form, and are now the only remaining record of my efforts. The photo below shows a closeup of part of the layout.

A portion of my falling-apart model railway, in 1973

A portion of my disintegrating model railway, in 1973

Most of the buildings shown were plastic or cardboard kits produced by Tri-ang, Playcraft, Superquick and other manufacturers.

One prominent item in the photo is the rather wonky-looking water tower (towards the bottom right), which was one of my earliest attempts at “scratch-building”. I used thin cardboard and Superquick “brick paper”, but I had no plans and just created the building’s walls “on the fly”. The initial result wasn’t too bad, but the flimsy cardboard construction couldn’t survive the climatic extremes in our conservatory, so, by the time the photos were taken, the structure was warped and was falling apart.

The posters for Beefex and Kelloggs on the sides of the water tank were hand-drawn by me. Both were real products, of course, except that I misspelled Kelloggs with only one “g”! I’d also decided to depict one of the posters peeling off the wall, which was a detail I knew I’d seen in real life somewhere years before.

I couldn’t remember where I’d seen the peeling poster, and I certainly never expected to see that real-life example again.

I was astonished therefore when, decades later, I was thumbing through a recently-published book on the Hull & Scarborough railway, and there in the book was a photo of the old water tank at Bridlington Station, with a Martini poster on the side, one corner of which is peeling! The image below is a partial scan, showing the relevant detail.

Railway Water Tank at Bridlington Station, c.1965

Railway Water Tank at Bridlington Station, c.1965

The photo in the book isn’t dated, but the Martini slogan in the poster was in use around 1964, so I probably saw it a few years after that. The only other mistake I’d made was to have the corner of the poster defying gravity, by peeling up from the bottom corner, instead of down from the top!

Lewis’s Store, Leicester, in 1978

tr7-14-2400shrot_781118crightThe picture above shows the tower of the Art Deco styled Lewis’s store in Leicester, UK, on the cold afternoon of 18th November 1978. In those days, there was no “Sunday Trading” (except for newsagents), so Saturday was the main shopping day of the week. There’s no Thanksgiving Holiday in Britain, of course, but the holiday decorations were already in place on the store!

Unfortunately, during the 1990s this distinctive building was demolished, except for the tower, which was preserved among the replacement architecture, seemingly as some kind of afterthought. As shown below in my 2008 photo, the Art Deco tower now seems completely incongruous with the style of the surrounding buildings.

leicester_lewistower2

Update 2022: I’ve been informed that the store was owned by Lewis’s, not John Lewis. It makes little difference to the point of my post, but I’ve corrected the text anyway. Here is a link to an article about the closure of the store:

https://www.leicestermercury.co.uk/news/history/fond-memories-lewiss-25th-anniversary-2454555

Michael Palin & the Life of Brian: Insights from my Interview

A Defiant Stance!

A Defiant Stance!

In 1983, while a student at Imperial College, I taped a video interview with Michael Palin, of “Monty Python” fame. At that time, the Monty Python team’s most famous—if not notorious—movie to date had been “The Life of Brian”, which had been released in 1979. Controversial at the time, the movie is perhaps even more famous now, having regularly been cited as the “greatest comedy film of all time”. If you can remember back to that time, you may recall that “The Life of Brian” was vociferously denounced in some quarters as being “blasphemous”.

As our interview progressed, I broached the topic by mentioning to Michael* that there had been controversy about the movie “where I was living”. His immediate response was, “You’re not from Harrogate, are you?” I laughed, but had to admit that I was in fact from nearby Scarborough (both towns being in North Yorkshire, England). He replied along the lines of, “Well, Harrogate seemed to be the worst when it came to the intellectual level of debate”.

Michael acknowledged that the team had anticipated some controversy when planning the movie: “We realized that some people would claim that Brian was supposed to be Jesus, so we deliberately included Jesus alongside Brian, to make it clear that he wasn’t.”

As it turned out, the reality was that all too many were willing to denounce the movie without even having seen it. In fact, as is surely obvious to anyone who takes the trouble to watch it through, the plot pokes satirical fun at religions, organizations, and many other topics that you’d expect the Monty Python team to address. The petulant reaction simply provided extra publicity for the movie, and discredited those who complained about non-existent offences.

Perhaps among the most insightful aspects of the movie is the lampooning of the way in which, having committed themselves to a particular belief, some people will go to extremes to avoid having to accept any evidence that the belief is wrong. Instead of reaching the logical conclusion, believers go out of their way to create and justify the most implausible rationalizations, redefining words and concepts as necessary to avoid admitting error.

I found Michael Palin’s comments during our interview interesting and personally thought-provoking, since he was correct that there had been much sanctimonious hand-wringing about the movie in my home town (and in many other places too). The end result of all that, in my case, was to make me realize that even some supposedly-intelligent people whom I knew couldn’t necessarily be trusted to behave rationally when it came to the “big issues”. That was a lesson that I’ve carried with me ever since.

(* Just in case it seems presumptuous of me to refer to my guest simply as “Michael”, I should mention that he gave me explicit permission to do that! He told me, “Only my parents call me Mr. Palin”…)

Digital Bayeux

ligatures_bayeux1I just completed some artwork to illustrate a forthcoming article for my professional blog, www.teklibri.com. The article discusses the use of linguistic ligatures in English, which immediately put in me in mind of the impressive artwork of the Bayeux Tapestry.

The Bayeux Tapestry has once again been in the news recently, because the events that it depicts took place exactly 950 years ago, in 1066. I was first introduced to that remarkable work of art when I was six years old, in 1966, that being the 900th anniversary of the events.

My graphic is loosely based on the Bayeux style, but in a considerably simplified manner. Again inspired by details in the real tapestry, I took the opportunity to include in the border a representation of two cats fighting, just like our own Ignatz and Ginger Tom!

Having analyzed the design of the illustrations in the tapestry, I now have a much finer appreciation of the quality of the original work.

The typeface used for the copyright notice in my artwork is called “King Harold”, which was itself inspired by text that appears in the tapestry. The typeface can be downloaded free in TrueType format from:

http://haroldsfonts.com/portfolio/king-harold

How Radio Times Reintroduced Me to Art

pysch_gambling2My previous post explained “How I Became a London Student and (Almost) Went Astray”. As I mentioned, moving to London and taking up studies there led me to many experiences that I had never anticipated.

Imperial College in London is just across Exhibition Road from the Victoria & Albert Museum. In 1981, when I moved to the Student Halls of Residence in South Kensington, the “V&A” had just added a new exhibition building, which they named the “Henry Cole Wing”. Ironically, this building had been the original location of Imperial College, when it was known as the “Normal School of Science”.

One of the first exhibitions to be held in the Henry Cole Wing featured (mostly) monochrome artwork produced for one of Britain’s best-known publications: Radio Times.

Here’s the cover of the exhibition guide:

artofradiotimescover

I visited the exhibition several times, and was intrigued by the inkwork techniques of the artists, which were very apparent in the original works displayed. Even the “whiting out” of mistakes in the artwork was obvious!

I hadn’t done any serious artwork myself for a few years, but, looking at these works, I must have begun to feel that “maybe I could do this”. At the same time, I had volunteered to be the Publicity Officer of Imperial College’s H G Wells Society. I decided that perhaps I could produce some monochrome artwork for use as posters for the H G Wells Society.

The H G Wells Society presented lectures on a wide variety of subjects. One of the first on the schedule was to be titled “The Psychology of Gambling”. Thus, I set to work with ink and brush to produce what I hoped would be an eye-catching illustration.

The result was the image at the head of this post, and thus it came about that, even though I’d moved to London to study Electrical Engineering, I found myself once again using my artistic skills.

How I Became a London Student and (Almost) Went Astray

img0020rotatedGiven my education as an engineer, you may expect that I began reading the work of H G Wells because of his science fiction writing. It’s true that, as a child, I watched several movies that were derived from Wells’ science fiction, such as “War of the Worlds”, but I never actually read any of his books.

In fact, though, I was first motivated to read Wells’ work because of his social ideas. One of the first titles I read was “In the Days of the Comet“, which is now largely forgotten, but, when published, was regarded as outrageous, and was even denounced as pornographic!

Not all of Wells’ works fall into the genre of science fiction; some are simply social novels, such as “Ann Veronica” (also now forgotten, but controversial when first published, because it advanced the cause of women’s rights). Many include autobiographical details, such as “Tono Bungay“, which he published in 1909.

A few years after reading “Tono Bungay”, I moved to London to begin my undergraduate studies in Electrical Engineering. It was only then that I picked up the book again, and realized the ominous title of the first chapter:

tono_bungay_title

I recalled that Wells had indeed been a student at London’s “Normal School of Science” himself, almost a hundred years before I began studying at the same university, now renamed as Imperial College. Wells’ own studies didn’t work out as planned; he did indeed “go astray” and failed his degree. Nonetheless, his experience working on the college’s student newspaper led to his successful writing career, so the outcome was actually successful.

For my part, although I found London very distracting, and it would have been easy to have “gone astray”, I managed to get through and obtain an Honours degree. In addition, I gained vital experience in several other fields that proved useful professionally, but which I’d never anticipated, such as illustration and television.

The college building in which H G Wells studied still exists, across the road from the current Imperial College. It is now known as the Henry Cole Wing of the Victoria & Albert Museum, as shown below in my 1996 photograph.

The original Imperial College: now the Henry Cole Wing of the Victoria & Albert Museum

The original Imperial College: now the Henry Cole Wing of the Victoria & Albert Museum

A Sad History

tr12-1-2400shI just finished reading this excellent book:

https://www.amazon.com/Slow-Death-British-Industry-Sixty-Year/dp/1849544638/ref=cm_sw_em_r_dp_w_d_Kbf2xb9A676V7_tt

It’s a sad reflection on the appalling waste of Britain’s technical ingenuity over the past fifty years. I have a personal interest in the topic, having worked for some of the (now defunct) companies mentioned in the book.

It’s perhaps not surprising that so many of my fellow Imperial College graduates are now working in the USA, but what a waste of Britain’s educational investment in all of us!