Borage (Alison Best)WEDNESDAY 6 FEBRUARY
ALISON BEST
I first came across Alison Best last year when - I think - I was still working on the Big Blue Bus. I went out to record a chat with her in her workshop and was astounded at what I found there. Alison has virtually founded a new art form - a kind of printed stencil. I’m hoping to arrange a chat with her for The Nightshift quite soon so I won’t even attempt to describe the processes involved in what she does. I’ll let her do full justice to it so that you can really appreciate the inventiveness and the sheer artistry of her work. The image here gives you a good idea of her talent. Keep listening to hear yet another liberating story of determination against adversity.
THE STATUE
I have received a letter about my endorsement of Durham City Council’s proposal to remove the equestrian statue in the City’s Market Place. I reproduce it here without comment.
Dear Mr Robertson
Much water has been passed since I last felt the need to put biro to vellum in this way. When all is said and done, you and I go back a long way and I have much to thank you for; namely, a rash, £4,000 worth of debt and the rosy glow on the cheeks of my son Sebastian. I will always value the support you gave me; indeed, I am wearing it at this very moment.
However, when Tossit, my trusted retainer, caught me with my Brasso in the narthex the other evening and told me of your unaccountable hatred of the Marquis of Londonderry, I was inflamed. Even Tossit became engorged as he slipped me the lowdown.
I would do no more than point out to you that His Grace was, in fact, my fourth cousin three times removed. (The fourth attempt to remove him failed.) I can vouchsafe that he was the very soul of generosity to any impecunious men he came across, especially on his charitable nocturnal sojourns to North Shields, Shildon, Ponteland and many, many other disreputable and down-at-heel parts of his erstwhile estates. My sister Hortense has proof - consisting of several stained items of his clothing and accepted as evidence in a Court of Law - that he once shared his largesse with three men of the lower orders at the same time!
In any case, his reproduction - admired by generations of drunken miners as they staggered around Durham on their tasteless annual release from well-rewarded toil in my cousins rich-seamed bowels - is now legendary. Everyone knows, after all, that the horse is missing a very important appendage indeed.
Please Ivan - I am on my knees because I think you are far too hard. I beg you to desist in this needless besmirching of my ancestor’s generous bent. If you continue your venomous ejaculations, I will be forced to act.
Yours
Euphemia Overall-Burke
PS My sainted husband Algernon would be turning in his grave if he were dead and not living in Consett with an aromatherapist.
BOB’S YER UNCLE, FANNY’S YER AUNT
Today’s question - the second of nine - is.....where do Preston North End play their home matches?
CONTACT ME
Post comments on this blog or contact me in any one (or more) of these ways....
ian.robinson@bbc.co.uk
ianstuartrobinson@googlemail.com
text 07786 200954 (while the programme is on-air)
call (between about 0545 and 0630 Monday to Friday) 0191 232 6565
Ian Robinson, The Nightshift, BBC Radio Newcastle, Spital Tongues, Newcastle-upon-Tyne NE99 1RN
NOTE
Please bear in mind that the views expressed in this blog are my own and NOT the views of the BBC.
ALISON BEST
I first came across Alison Best last year when - I think - I was still working on the Big Blue Bus. I went out to record a chat with her in her workshop and was astounded at what I found there. Alison has virtually founded a new art form - a kind of printed stencil. I’m hoping to arrange a chat with her for The Nightshift quite soon so I won’t even attempt to describe the processes involved in what she does. I’ll let her do full justice to it so that you can really appreciate the inventiveness and the sheer artistry of her work. The image here gives you a good idea of her talent. Keep listening to hear yet another liberating story of determination against adversity.
THE STATUE
I have received a letter about my endorsement of Durham City Council’s proposal to remove the equestrian statue in the City’s Market Place. I reproduce it here without comment.
Dear Mr Robertson
Much water has been passed since I last felt the need to put biro to vellum in this way. When all is said and done, you and I go back a long way and I have much to thank you for; namely, a rash, £4,000 worth of debt and the rosy glow on the cheeks of my son Sebastian. I will always value the support you gave me; indeed, I am wearing it at this very moment.
However, when Tossit, my trusted retainer, caught me with my Brasso in the narthex the other evening and told me of your unaccountable hatred of the Marquis of Londonderry, I was inflamed. Even Tossit became engorged as he slipped me the lowdown.
I would do no more than point out to you that His Grace was, in fact, my fourth cousin three times removed. (The fourth attempt to remove him failed.) I can vouchsafe that he was the very soul of generosity to any impecunious men he came across, especially on his charitable nocturnal sojourns to North Shields, Shildon, Ponteland and many, many other disreputable and down-at-heel parts of his erstwhile estates. My sister Hortense has proof - consisting of several stained items of his clothing and accepted as evidence in a Court of Law - that he once shared his largesse with three men of the lower orders at the same time!
In any case, his reproduction - admired by generations of drunken miners as they staggered around Durham on their tasteless annual release from well-rewarded toil in my cousins rich-seamed bowels - is now legendary. Everyone knows, after all, that the horse is missing a very important appendage indeed.
Please Ivan - I am on my knees because I think you are far too hard. I beg you to desist in this needless besmirching of my ancestor’s generous bent. If you continue your venomous ejaculations, I will be forced to act.
Yours
Euphemia Overall-Burke
PS My sainted husband Algernon would be turning in his grave if he were dead and not living in Consett with an aromatherapist.
BOB’S YER UNCLE, FANNY’S YER AUNT
Today’s question - the second of nine - is.....where do Preston North End play their home matches?
CONTACT ME
Post comments on this blog or contact me in any one (or more) of these ways....
ian.robinson@bbc.co.uk
ianstuartrobinson@googlemail.com
text 07786 200954 (while the programme is on-air)
call (between about 0545 and 0630 Monday to Friday) 0191 232 6565
Ian Robinson, The Nightshift, BBC Radio Newcastle, Spital Tongues, Newcastle-upon-Tyne NE99 1RN
NOTE
Please bear in mind that the views expressed in this blog are my own and NOT the views of the BBC.
7 comments:
ian i have some of alisons postcard images. she was kind enough to send them to me after i contacted her on the bbc tyne website. looking forward to the interview. They are stunning.
Hi Ian,
So the Tipsy one is still alive and well, or as well as her advanced state of picklisation allows and standing up for her ghastly rellies.
I thought she'd been burried in that bad bend at Esh Winning, or still bobbing on the piste with Tossit at their Winter Olympics.
When she scored the quizzes I was involved in it was always tight, the scores were always close, and sher always seemed so dissapointed to hear that there was only 2 in it, she appeared to want more.
Still she was always impressed by my enormous affrontary (probably spelt horribly wrong) frequently mentioning it with hidden affection.
But a relly of that copper-oxide covered **** arrghh.... and I thought the old Tipsy was of decent stock.
Hope she hasn't got her headphone plug stuck in anymore and that she can whip it out with ease now she has more experience.
Lawrence
Ive never heard of tipsy.
secret society by the sounds of it.
Woops Loz - it seems the joke will be lost on anyone whose experience of BBC Radio Newcastle doesn't go back to the heady days of 1999/2000!
Gilly...who's that in the picture?
Yes Ian,
It would seem so. Shame really as some of those Saturday mornings were filled with the most amazing humour of which much may not actually be acceptable on air these days, but heavens it was funny stuff.
Her Grace, Tossit, young and tender Sebastian and old dog-posture and co have gone down in the annals (that is 2 n s ain't it?) of radiophonic history.
Lawrence
me ian ! long story. but the jist of it is i stuck it on my own blog, when i posted on t,s it popped up there too. thats all i,m saying...
The tipsy thingy.... were they real people or fictional as in the archers. ?
tell us about them.
I don,t know about them and now i,m curious. I may even lose sleep.
3am i,m a nighthawk truckshunter trying to think of title for the song playing at the moment reminds me of peter and the wolf from school....haunting, but mesmerising all the same..
now i know, the funeral march..
aye alfred hitchock..
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