Wednesday 9 November 2016

06/11/2016 Arty Saturday

What a day Saturday was!

First, my bike was made useable by a friend, big thanks go to Tony!
I hopped on it and went to The Lady's Creative Centre in Ealing Haven Green: great time there, interesting people, a long conversation with the hostess, Nousha. Yousif and Hassan were there too. Hassan will be teaching Arabic calligraphy there soon.

On hearing from Peter, the painter,  about The Ealing Art Group annual exhibition at The Town Hall I headed there next, closely followed by Yousif Naser, yes, the painter, poet and journalist.  There were works to suit every taste, such a variety. We liked quite a few very much. Yousif recognised a few works by his former students. The people in charge (artists who took turns to play hosts) had no problem about me taking pictures once I told them them they will be published.

I tell you, it was well after 2pm by then and the morning porridge had been burnt up. I peddled home to have some food and to put on a warmer jacket. It was very cold, you know, the kind of cold when you think it may bring about snow. To be honest with you, I topped up the meal with my prescribed 'onset of headache fix' and  had a short rest.

Next   cycled to South Acton to make sure it was still there before my today's TOUR OF SOUTH ACTON! Just as well I did! So much more has been built there in the meantime, so much has been fenced off for demolition and... one of the ATM's murals has been irrevocably destroyed!
On discovering this, I cycled to Carrie Reichardt studio in Acton Lane. She and Karen were working on the Acton Oak mural, another fantastic local project, but let me in so we could arrange for today's visit to the place. I came out with a gift: a signature and signed 'Mad in England' tile. I may suggest to Carrie to swap it for a customised 'Mad from Poland' for me! :-)

And this, dear reader, brings me to the evening, when very cold and feeling rough I was heading home thinking of a way to get myself going asap again. Why? Because I couldn't miss an art exhibition opening in Bond Street, Ealing Broadway. Yousif (aforementioned) had in the meantime informed me about this event - an exhibition of works by young Polish artists! This time it was a classic concoction of ginger with lemon and honey to keep me going so cycling was out of the question. Luckily, my theatre outing companion turned up in time to drive me to Ealing Broadway, bless him. Parking is always an issue there. We did a lap of honour and he dropped me off near the cult Art for Arts' Sake on the corner and drove off to find a parking place allowing me only ten minutes to see the exhibit. However, the place looked almost dead. There were no guests. Only one woman was working at the desk inside. I drew her attention, and she reluctantly came to the door and after an explanation let me in. I hadn't been to Bond Street for maybe a month and hadn't realised that  a pop-up shop had started half-way along the street. That was the likely venue! I headed there, immensely grateful to the kind and helpful lady. Indeed, there they all were, smartly dressed, crowding the small space around the richly laid tables, paintings on the walls around them. I heard a woman opening the exhibition speak in Polish. A young man in a suit was interpreting. She was introducing the young, tall, short haired woman standing between them to the audience. Her works they had gathered to view.  Next it was the young lady's turn to speak about her works. She didn't need an interpreter. Gone are the days when Russian was a compulsory second language in Poland. Meanwhile, more people came in to crowd the limited space. The artist spoke about the striking portraits of the men, their faces scarred during the war. Suddenly, through the slightly open door I heard some Arabic words. I knew who it was. Yousif Naser made his way from his dwelling far away west of Ealing and was most likelygiving directions to his friend who probably, like me, couldn't find the venue.  Alas, I had to leave as they were entering. We shook hands and I jumped into the car to take us to the theatre in Acton.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, we have a theatre in Acton and some good shows you can see on the small stage in The Trade Union Club in Acton High Street, opposite the huge oak painting on the wall! (Yes, Acton = Oak Hamlet ). We got the tickets downstairs at the cosy pub and, equipped with drinks, climbed the stairs to the theatre room. The play had just started and we quietly sat down on folding chairs to follow a story about the exploitation of Irishmen working illegally on construction sites in London. Good it was! Shame my friend Olek, who got to the theatre a moment later than us (on my invitation), didn't stay afterwards for a drink and a chat with the artists and other people. I met a local woman half-way between the downstairs and upstairs. Jessica her name is. We both loved the play and the acting. She is from Acton, but of Irish parents, just like so many people here. Nowadays, Poles, Romanians and other Eastern-Eauropeans have replaced the Irish in London, but they can easily sing the same song...








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