The past couple of days I have messed up by attempting to do too many things, from the assembly of a new TV entertainment centre unit, setting up the inexpensive, but all singing and dancing disk player so that the output was in black and white, to failing to load the multifunction printer to the laptop and now wiping out a couple of hours of writing these notes. I was able to resolve all the self created problems but remembering what I had written is the greater challenge.
The reason for the amount of time devoted to writing these notes is that there were two days of overwhelming new experience from attending only a small part of the Festival of the mouth of the Tyne held between midday Saturday and Sunday evening, last weekend. That is a major admission. I find going over previous experience a challenge and new experience is frequently overwhelming, especially when I mess up. The solution used to involve careful planning and when the opportunity arose, rehearsals, sitting on the toilet trying to work out what questions I might be asked when attending a committee, or thinking about what could happen and what might not, if for example the car broke down while visiting, with others, some distant and deserted corner of a foreign speaking land.
Although it has taken close on seventy years I now act more spontaneously and change mind and try not to make plans. I have abandoned the ritual of going through what's on TV each morning from fear of missing an important repeat programme relevant to my work, or just a programme I would like to see again. The only habit retained, and a good one, is to look out and up when I awake to see if the weather is OK to go out.
I did this last weekend, intending to discover what the opening parade of south bank festival of the Tyne was like. It was bright and the forecast was good, but there was a sharp wind which I hoped would die down. I decided to write a letter which involved taking a position on a local development, something which I had disciplined against doing for two years, but people had been whipped up for political reasons and were wrong, with the consequence that some new jobs, albeit a few new jobs could be lost. I also decided on eating as this was not a day for a picnic or using the over the shoulder bag collapsible armchair. I enjoyed a salmon salad, using one of six tins bought for £1 each after spotting a special offer at the local supermarket the previously evening.
The weekend marked the first of what has become a coordinated series of festivals designed to attract visitors from further afield, involving local authorities who previously competed with each other, opening with the Mouth of the river, which replaced the former North Shields, fish quay weekend, and the South Shields second Sunday of July concert in the Park. Next weekend there begins ten days of concentrated cultural events, many free, a half marathon distance, back up the river banks in Newcastle and Gateshead and then the event which attracts the biggest number of visitors, in the hundreds of thousands each year, the Sunderland air show. The three festivals are attempting to achieve the regeneration of the coastal resorts of Tynemouth, South Shields and Seaburn, Sunderland, and of the river between the city and its mouth, as part of regeneration of local economies, previously based on industry and manufacturing. Last night I watched a programme about two coastal areas of Northumberland where once communities thrived because of the suitability of the area for industrial development but where the land has become agricultural or waste, a prospect for much of the UK as China and other former third world economies become industrial, and energy becomes more controlled by Russia, China, and the Middle East,
In South Tyneside, the Council has already created a marina park at Hebburn where it was once possible to stand up a bank and still be swamped from displaced water when a new tanker was launched, or in Jarrow where new commercial premises have been built offering a river bank setting, while in Shields a new community of homes and small offices had been created from a former dock, and from where oil tanks once dominated, and where the rest of the riverside towards Jarrow is to be developed with a half a billion investment project of housing, commercial premises, and cultural activities, and where the former customs house is now a theatre cinema, art gallery and restaurant. Yesterday it was announced that up to 1000 new jobs are to be created at a call centre, the fourth of a regional based company.
Two years ago I was in the process of moving when the first festival was held, and last year I concentrated on the events south of the Tyne, attending the three stage areas in two adjacent parks and various "street" performances, including the Saturday late night finale involving giant giraffe life creations in a performance art of movement, sound and light which commenced at one end of the sea front and then moved slowly to the other. It had been a gloriously hot day requiring minimum clothing and I had miscalculated the change brought by night, returning home very cold before the fire display although it could be viewed two minutes walk away. I also wanted to visit the traditional jazz stage at Tynemouth where five hours of music was promised on each of the two days.
Despite testing the weather, I misjudged the ferociousness of the wind and found it difficult to stand still on the open part of North Bents Park on Lawe Top as I went to investigate the arrival of a crane over 100 metres high which had appeared from below the hill, in the car park. I also wanted to investigate where Consultants were proposing that the Council approve building into the side of the hill a restaurant and visitors centre for the nearby Arbeia Roman fort, which is hidden from public view by the surrounding terraces of three storey dwellings, although it is possible to see part of the recreated entrance towers from some parts of its neighbourhood. The major controversy fuelled by political interests, sensing a cause to embarrass the Council, was a proposal to build a watch tower with a viewing platform for visitors and which would act as a headland Beacon.
The proposal was unlikely to challenge the present impact of the ruins of Tynemouth Castle and Priory which greet vessels approaching the mouth of the river, unless its height and design was truly spectacular. There are issues about radically changing the nature of the present landscape, about creating an obstruction of view in relation to a few properties, about in traffic flow. But I like the idea and my concept is for the tower to be supported by giant figures of a miner and a shipyard worker on a scale similar to that of the Angel of the North.
After negotiating the attractive new steps down the hill I walked to South Marine Park through the lower level, and more sheltered part, of North Bents to investigate how South Marine was being used. Last year there was a free big top circus but this time there was to be a dozen circus and comedy type acts, some performing at fixed events sites, while others took to the streets. I was tempted but decided against entering an above adult height enclosed site which looked like a maze, and from the subsequently acquired programme, learnt that it was indeed a maze peopled by a family of eccentrics and other strange sights. While some spectators had gathered around what appeared to be children being drilled as Roman centurions, the major crowd was at the new permanent children's safe, but adventuresome playground, and forming a queue for the puff puff train circumnavigating the boating lake of 85 or so swans. There were no performers yet on the main stage in this park. Nor had a performance commenced at the main event stage on the Exhibition park, but at the second stage Te Materae Kapa Haka performed Maori music and dance, one of several overseas groups from India, Norway, France, Brazil, Holland and New York appearing during the weekend.
I was pleased that the installation of Tibetan type prayer flags had been retained from last year with a similar installation on the Tynemouth headland and in the continuing wind these made their own music. It was not pleasant so after half an hour, I went shopping, and returned home to work, then, visiting my mother as planned, returning home, postponing going to the evening events until just before the fireworks.
I decided to leave the house just before 10pm and found that a mixture of locals and visitors were already assembled overlooking a floodlit aerial ballet which explained the crane. The group has made their way from one end of the sea front at Gypsy Green at 8.30, taking over an hour to reach their destination. The spectacle, particularly the second phase to an accompaniment of drums, merited the prolonged applause from those at the car park and those of us at the edge of the hill.
I also can record that the fireworks competed with the New Year extravaganza on the banks of the Thames. The height and size of the rocket bursts was breathtaking and sizzling is what I believe best describes the succession of shooting, twisting, and cascades of gold, sometimes also whistling. Although I had missed the greater part of the day's events but celebrated the summer nevertheless with a bottle of a chilled pink wine, the first such indulgence since a bottle of champagne to mark the 100th birthday of mother, a delicious stir fry of beef, onions, peppers mushrooms and pasta for the evening meal, followed by large portion of top notch sweet deep red cherries from M and S.
I had missed the Jaipur Kawa Contemporary Brass band from India and the French street band of musicians Le Snob Glissendo who play on stilts. Not the only French group on stilts with Les Oiseaux de Lux described as Giant colourful birds complete with their alien riders. I had also wanted to hear the local 21 year old singer songwriter Richard John Thompson. The group Indigo Moss recently featured by Phil Jupitas together with contemporary pop band Mancini, Alumino Rootsa Reggae group from Brazil and Bessie and the Zinc Buckets. Whether it was the wine, the display, or the fireworks, I returned home happy working until two am.
I was still able to make an start on Sunday which opened as a gloriously warm and wind absent day. To celebrate the refurbishment of MacDonald's there was a 2 for 1 voucher in the evening paper, and the place had been packed out the previous afternoon, mainly attracted by the new bright décor and lounge type seating at the front window areas. I had two Mac Chickens and a coffee for under £2 as a Sunday brunch at 11am. I then made my way to the new Ferry landing adjacent to Mill Dam. The Mill and dam are long departed!
There have been ferries crossing the Tyne between South and North Shields since 1377 and up until 1967 when the under river vehicle tunnel was opened about 1100 vehicles a day made the crossing. Work has commenced on clearing the ground for the entrance of the second tunnel, such is the present use with delays at rush hours, or if there is a breakdown.
In the Victorian era paddle steamers made twenty one stops between Newcastle and South Shields, and until the Tyne Tunnel the passenger ferry between Jarrow and Hawdon continued, and it was this route which is featured in the film Get Carter, and where the ugly unused concrete car park which has dominated Gateshead town centre for forty years is about to pulled down
There are still three ferry vessels in service, taking cyclists and foot passengers across the river, usually only one making hourly trips on Sundays, with the second available for hire or public three hours trips to Newcastle and vice versa, or 40 minutes to the harbour entrance, with live music or detailed commentary. On Sunday two ferries provided a continuous service, and free buses then transported to main event sites.
The shuttle bus dropped us off at the closed section of the wide Front street at Tynemouth which has been developed to provide a range of bars and restaurants, and where two performance areas had been created in the roadway. I continued on to find the jazz stage which was located at the small green before approaching the entrance to the Castle and Priory grounds. However it was not the on stage band which caught my attention but the name of the attractive pub restaurant with its panoramic view of the headland and the bay below: The Gibraltar Rock. I was ready for a cold drink and the opportunity was taken to ask the busy bar staff attending customers who had come for their roast meal lunch if anyone knew how the name was chosen. It was evident that this is a regular enquiry, chat up line, for the reply was, "you can see it on a clear day." but I was then told that not everyone realises how ridiculous a reply this is.
With the death of George Melly still in mind. as I work through the curious name dropping autobiography of his wife, I was reminded of another sunny Sunday on a day long jazz boat trip from central London to Margate and back, by an impressive traditional band from Norway, the Jazzin Babies, I think a mixture of fresh faced front men and a more experienced rhythm section. They are exceptional musicians. However I missed part of their second set, because at the interval my attention was diverted to sounds coming from the other side of the Castle walls, and which had attracted a large audience.
This was the find of the festival, the eccentric but talented Jo Bithume Fanfare. The men in evening dress and the ladies exotically dressed in 1930's black and white evening wear, playing German Oomph band instruments from Strauss to Hendrix and everything in between. Two characters sole the show, A tall man whose facial expressions and movements had echoes of the central Mime character of Les Enfants du Paradise, and a deliciously quirky young woman who played the trumpet and various other instruments, danced and mimed. On arrival she, the man and a couple of others were dancing with members of the audience. As with many at the festival they were professional musicians who had developed a riveting entertaining performance. Later I caught the first part of their performance in one of the central roadway performance areas, also taking the opportunity to watch the Barcelona based company La Tal based on a large clock which bursts into life with knights, clowns, battles and passions.
Although a second jazz band was scheduled for mid afternoon I only stayed for a couple of numbers preferring to explore the main performance areas in the grounds of the Castle and Priory with at the first another dance aerial group called Hang-Get knotted which focussed on the realities and extremes of the marriage ceremony, with appropriate music and lyrics. The Main stage at the other end of the grounds has a natural grassed amphitheatre which was full of picnickers, and it took all the projection and presentational skills of the New York singer songwriter Dean Friedman to hold the majority of the audience, and compete with the queues forming at the various food and drink outlets between the two stages, especially when the weather changed clouding over and getting cold, which signalled my time to depart, with the planned intention for visiting my mother earlier than usual, in order to get back to South Bents Park for the headlining main stage closing event performance at six by Courtney Pine. My decision was a good one, not because I attended his performance, but because the rains came.
I also missed the Legendry Billy Mitchell of Lindisfarne with his friends, the Bloackheads, two other headlining performances. The two day free festival featured some ninety listed performances plus ten hours of traditional jazz, involving 30 listed performance individuals or groups, plus unlisted trad bands. I am working hard to be ready for the Newcastle Gateshead festival this weekend
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