the second edition of things to experience in London with all five sense muscles. basically the sensing equivalent to heads, shoulders, knees and toes. plus one more, I dunno, someone call M. Night Shyamalan.
Sum art, fellow philistine, because Alex da Corte is exhibiting his new show Bad Land at Josh Lilley Gallery in Fitzrovia. Imagine Nicki Minaj owned and art directed The Black Lodge from Twin Peaks and perhaps you’d get somewhere close to picturing this 4-room shrine to neon and plastic. Da Corte dresses up as Eminem too so there’s guaranteed additional lols, promise.
Go on your own for maximum varnish-inhalation but careful you don’t get too lean just from looking at his bongs made of Tic Tac packets – settle for an 11am espresso martini down the road at the Riding House Caff instead, like a good civilised mutt.
Some charcoal to paper in the shape of a naked woman at one of the many life drawing lessons that Ldn has to offer, particular recos are Candid Arts and Adrian Dutton. It’s for all abilities, dw, this won’t be like the time you made your best m8 look like a gammon joint in GCSE Art. Don’t touch anything else there though, please, not again Nigel, not here.
Wake up and smell the oil spills, famines and greenhouse gases, then actually do something about it instead of just telling anyone who will listen about your plan to save the planet by never having kids:
UNO – Read up on the unfolding dangers of the melting time-bomb glaciers Pine Island and Thwaites. Then, day trip to Hatfield for the Slow Violence Symposium or check out the upcoming ClimateKeys concert.
TRES – Check out Bridge the Channel, an event at Pempeople in Peckham to sell artwerkz to raise some £££ for L’Auberge des Migrants in Calais, ALSO get down to Help Refugees’ pop-up shop on Broadwick Street in Soho.
James Holden live, 6th Dec at Islington Assembly Hall, with his new band The Animal Spirits, who sound suspiciously like they get tangled in each others’ dreadlocks while practising yoga and transcendental meditation on matcha mats, but the new album of the same name is a masterclass in improvisational folk-trance wizardry that deserves an airing. And blare it loud, this is noise your neighbours won’t mind. Promise.
Also, if you believe the album is actually the story of a little male artificial intelligence bot (are computers gendered yet?) who gets lost in the woods and is brought up by wild computers to become some kind of modular Moog machine-emperor then I’m totally with you, let’s be friends.
Put a curry leaf in your cocktail and smoke it, because we’re playing a complicated game of Simon Says (only complicated if you resist) where Simon is actually Kricket A.K.A dat new new small-plates Indian joint near Japan World (us atheists’ answer to udon heaven) in Soho southsaide. Get the hake, get the hake.
Then, to wash down all that samphire, find somewhere to get a few Anspach & Hobday beers, probs try your luck near Bermondsey, where the brewery is. Through a Meantime-glazed stupor I could STILL tell it tasted like the Ferrero Rocher of lagers, wheat got daaaamn creamy.