Articles tagged with: arts correspondent
Putting your fat balls out for the birds is a seasonal necessity……..
The name is shite, the street it is on is shite, the décor is shite, the plastic chairs are shite, the plastic plates are shite, the entrance is shite, the atmosphere is shite……..
They knew that Dot was pregnant before she knew, they knew that Jean was having a secret affair with her brother .
It was fairly clear to me at a very tender age that shoving your head into stuff gave you great insight and wisdom.
I enjoyed the floating garden, it was a garden that floated and for that reason I edified it to levels of flabbergastment which was probably a bit over the top given the dour nature of the garden.
The Basin was hosting Atelier[Zero] which had built a row of seaside bathing huts along the side of the water’s edge.
John O’Shea set out about a year ago to cultivate the world’s first bio-engineered football.
It makes you think of a future where inanimate objects could be made of living cells, therefore eradicating the need for maintenance.
The ironical thing about the increase in the medal total for the fat cat team is that they used the method of the old so-called socialist states of the eastern bloc.
In the lympic park you had to queue up for water, I assume this is to remind us how most people in the world have to get their daily drinking water
The 1630s are a confusing period of English history when old certainties were abandoned, new knowledges gained and social conventions overturned. But in religious affairs, there was little toleration…
The excellent MaD Theatre Company are performing their latest play Gin and Chronic Arthritis this week at the Lasse O’Gowrie (off Oxford Road, Manchester city centre) and the Simpson Hall in Moston.
The creatures who inhabit these dwellings and even their dark, wet cellars, and who live confined amidst all this filth and foul air – which cannot be dissipated because of the surrounding lofty buildings – must surely have sunk to the lowest level of humanity.
Beswick, Bradford and Blackley obviously belong to some far off place that lies somewhere north of Piccadilly Gardens.
The brilliantly insightful discovery that finding a lost item at the lost and found office is an act of faith in your fellow man.
Audience agog at such an unseemly sight, looked on in wonder.
When they did eventually reach a more interesting part of their odyssey, Hackney, they drifted through in the same sterile manner.
Recently, the paintings of one artist in particular have graced the Lowry Art Gallery’s walls; the paintings of an artist important to the development of Lowry’s talents and fascinating to anyone interested in a little tit-bit of Mancunian history.
By Eric Northey
Coronation St. Great writing. Nostalgia. A heady northern mix. The little pub on Charles St, the Lass O’Gowrie, is having an innovative Midwinter Lassfest till the end of the month. What caught my …
It turns out there is five times more material in clusters of galaxies than we would expect, it is claimed. This invisible stuff is called ‘dark matter’, a term initially coined by Fritz Zwicky who …
Social class permeates every sickening aspect of capitalism, even the dead.
The five thousand mentally ill patients of Prestwich Asylum buried in an anonymous unmarked mass grave in the churchyard at St Mary’s, Prestwich
The project questioned and challenged the established systems of commerce and exchange by disrupting them with generosity.
Being an FC fan and therefore a renowned jibber, jibbing the art world wasn’t that difficult.
The first time I heard the Internationale I was about 17 and a member of the Workers’ Revolutionary Party. It was in Bow Town Hall at the end of some political conference and everyone stood up and sang the Internationale. It was the best bit of the whole conference, I loved it even though I didn’t understand much of the lyric, I understood ‘The Internationale unites the human race’.
There are two things I know about the Ting Tings, one is something I can prove, the other is something I was told was true by someone I love deeply and trust implicitly.
Synagogue, Church, Mandir, Gurdwara and Mosque; my Manchester International Festival jaunt ‘to experience the sublime power of the human voice’ through religious devotion.
Being well away from the front of the stage is a distinct advantage. Hair burning, self-mutilation, suffocation and Russian Roulette are just some of the happy scenarios Marina Abramovic engages in.
Tea, cake and song. A secret café, hidden away under a railway arch in the centre of our glorious multicultural artistic city. A one-off Not Part Of Festival event, apply online, invited by email.