El Puto Guiri #26
In this week’s newsletter we discuss urban secrets and popular proverbs, whilst remembering Santana, and drawing inspiration from the high seas. We are also joined by esteemed Cheshire-based artist and animator Mark Warrington.
Sshh!
So I spent last Saturday - an unusually warm February afternoon - with a few pals on the outer fringes of the city limits in one of the last barrios that hasn’t yet been overrun, sanitised or shat on by the tourism machine, a place so steeped in the past, it genuinely felt like 40 years had never happened.
Gazing at the cassette rack in the bar I was transported back to childhood holidays. That selection of pasodoble was once a mainstay of every service station across the land. The chickens in neighbouring yards a reminder of those old pueblos that aren’t supposed to exist anymore. The barman an instant folk hero single-handedly attending to about 50 people with the reflexes and precision of Pistol Pete. A place where you can sit on long benches under trees in the winter sun and barbecue your own steaks, jacket potatoes and calçot onions, whilst listening the faint din of music out of an old ghetto blaster gathering dust on a window ledge. A place that insists on cash only, preferably crunched up notes to be tossed into a wooden drawer. For all those reasons, I’m keeping schtum. Determined sleuths can try and work out where this place is.
It might sound petty but this stuff matters. It didn’t escape anyone’s attention that my own barrio El Clot made it into Time Out last year as ‘one of the best neighbourhoods on Earth’, an accolade which raised a few eyebrows (and alarm bells). It made me consider the extent to which secrecy is still possible in the Google age. Even a niche blog like this is fraught with risk. When do you cling on? When do you capitulate?
You don’t have to be a seasoned misanthrope to realise the city does have a problem with too many visitors and a dangerous overconsumption of scarce water supplies. Run that one past the tourism lobby and their lapdogs in government… I’ve never disguised the fact I wish Barcelona was still a pre-92 analogue secret. But the genie is long out of Pandora’s Box and there’s no going back. So I’m making the most of everything before they kill it forever.
Refranes, dichos y proverbios
Mi abuela murió hace 9 años y su fallecimiento dejó un hueco en mi vida. Fue una persona increíble, tanto como yaya que cocinera, culer o campeona de parchís, cartas o la oca. Solía contarme cosas de la guerra, del poble, de la tienda, cosas muy fuertes que nuestra generación no podría ni imaginar. Y así despertó mi interés no solo en la familia sino la historia social. Por cierto no era fácil comunicarse, sobretodo en los primeros años por cuestiones lingüísticas. No sabía yo nada de castellano - y aún menos catalán - y ella sufrió con el inglés. Pero poco a poco llegué a conocerla mejor y aprendí suficiente para establecer un diálogo.
Me fascinaban las Fábulas de Esopo (Aesop’s Fables) cuando era pequeño y esta lección moral dejó un impacto más profundo que cualquier sermón bíblico. Y en algunos sentidos parecidos a los refranes de mi abuela. Recuerdo su habilidad con los proverbios de la sabiduría popular. Aplicaba un dicho a cada situación como si fuera una rocola de antiguos discos. Una memoria impresionante. Seguramente son super conocidos en el refranero español pero a mi aún me hacen gracia y dan para pensar:
No encuentras agua en el mar ~ Donde hay pelo hay alegría ~ Cuando tenía dientes, no tenía carne y cuando tenía carne no tenía dientes ~ Si quieres ser cornudo anda a la caza a menudo ~ Cuando no hay lomo de todo como ~ Mas vale pájaro en mano que ciento volando ~ Lo barato es caro ~ Cada uno en su casa ~ Cada oveja con su pareja ~ En boca cerrada no entran moscas ~ Quien roba a un ladrón 100 años de perdón ~ Dame pan y dime tonto ~ Muerto el perro, muerta la rabia ~ De mica en mica s'omple la pica ~ Saber nadar i guardar la roba ~ Tot el que no son pessetes son punyetes ~ Gall que no canta algo te a la garganta ~ Mes val caure en gracia que ser graciós ~ Amb raó o sense raó el pobre va a presso ~ Qui et vol mal, et fa riure i qui et vol bé, et farà plorar ~ Qui molt abraça i poc estreny, home de poc seny ~ Carn fa carn i vi fa sang ~ Home pelut, o molt savi o molt ruc
Calypte on the High Seas
So last week I stumbled across a social media post by my favourite Japanese neokraut experimentalists Minami Deutsch celebrating the fact their music had made it on to a prestigious surf/sailing film. I’ve seen them live a few times at Sala Upload (Poble Espanyol) and where they go I invariably follow. I don’t ordinarily watch watersports let alone partake in them. When it comes to mar o muntanya I am team muntanya every time. But intrigued, I dived in. Something about the video warmed my soul. Their determination to see through an adventure across dangerous waters with minimal nautical experience. You’re struck by the naivety, humility and their sense of awe.
I’ve never been to Indonesia but K grew up in Jakarta in the late 80s when her family worked there and she fell in love with every aspect of a friendly country, from the batik shirts, Balinese dancing and gamelan instruments, to the orangutan who once stole one of her father’s cigs. I am reliably informed that returning to Croydon after that was the epitome of all intergalactic culture shocks.
I know zilch about surfing and only ever went sailing once, with some old school friends of my mum who took us out when I was 12. The darkest memories yakking my calamares into the sea barely 30 minutes out of Castelldefels. I still remember the strange isolation at sea, the different mindsets and experience of time, and a detachment from anything else in life. It’s something I’m never likely to relive, but this video reminded me slightly of those overwhelming feelings and made me crave a similar experience again.
El Maxi #23: Santana - Soul Sacrifice (1969)
Avui voldria retre un petit homenatge a un dels meus ídols, el mexicà Carlos Santana, un veritable gegant de rock. Va fer famós als anys 60 i 70 amb la seva banda - Santana - que va ser pionera en la fusió de rock, salsa i jazz. El so de la banda combinava la melòdica del blues i els ritmes llatins i africans que ofereixen els instruments de percussió com timbals i congues. Generalment ja no s'escolten en la música rock i és una llàstima. Dels inicis de la seva carrera se'n destaca la seva participació al festival més famós de tots. Cada vegada que em pregunten quin concert m’agradaria haver viscut, contesto amb la mateixa resposta: Woodstock 1969 i aquella mítica interpretació de Soul Sacrifice.
Al començament del festival, Santana - una banda psicodèlica de San Francisco - era un dels grups menys coneguts. Va ser afegit al festival principalment perquè el mànager Bill Graham, el promotor dels concerts més importants del païs, els va impulsar. Quan el grup es va presentar a les 2 de la tarde del dissabte, la multitut - al menys 400,000 assistents - es va sorprendre per la manera precisa i àgil amb que tocava la guitarra Carlos Santana, el líder de la banda, així com la secció rítmica que incluía a dos percussionistes, poc habitual en les bandes de rock.
En aquesta entrevista amb The New York Times va recordar aquell dia:
Cuando llegamos, la primera persona que vi fue mi hermano y amigo Jerry Garcia. Parecía uno de esos yoguis que viven en una cueva del Himalaya. Tenía una apariencia de beato, como si todo estuviera bien para él. A mí eso me hacía sentir seguridad y confianza, era como si estuviera en un santuario.
Nos habían dicho que íbamos a presentarnos dos bandas después de Grateful Dead. Me dijo: “Bueno, amigo, es mejor que te pongas cómodo porque, al parecer, no vamos a presentarnos sino hasta la una de la mañana. Es un desastre. Y, por cierto, ¿quieres probar un poco de esto?”. Era mescalina. Yo le respondí: “A ver, son las 12:30 del día. Para cuando den las dos de la mañana, estaré bien”. Solía consumir LSD y mescalina, así que sabía cuánto tiempo me tomaría. Después de ocho o diez horas, entras en lo que llamamos el estado de ameba. Tus ideas se vuelven muy galácticas, universales y microscópicas. Dos horas después de que la tomé, había un rostro frente a mí que decía: “Deben subir al escenario ahora mismo; si no, no podrán tocar”.
Me delata mi lenguaje corporal. Tuve problemas con la guitarra, no como un luchador, sino como un surfista, tratando de mantener y continuar el equilibrio. Esa es la clave de todo en la vida. Aunque estés sobrio o drogado de mescalina, mantén tu compostura y tu equilibrio. Llegamos con las congas y la audiencia pensó: ‘Ah, esto es como estar en Hippie Hill o en la fuente [de Central Park] en Nueva York’. Podías fumar marihuana y escuchar las congas, y la música te daba ganas de celebrar, no pensabas en el miedo, en Vietnam ni en Nixon ni en nada de eso…
Encara em flipa com era posible fer aquest espectacle, potser el millor de l’historia. Un jam que no hauria d'haver funcionat. L’intensitat de tots els components, el públic ballant com bojos, es a dir un trip collectiu, malgrat la pluja, la pèssima condició del camp, la falta de sanitació, o els altaveus primatius.
Santana va fer molta música d’altíssima qualitat: Evil Ways, Black Magic Woman, Oye Como Va, Jingo o - per als amants - el suau Samba Pa Ti. Ha estat a Barcelona diversos cops. Potser el concert més destacat va ser aquest show amb Paco de Lucia a l’any 1977 - dos mestres tocant junts. Un cosí meu també es fan i encara recordo com vam passar-ho bé un cap de setmana de l’estiu de 1994 a França escoltant la seva música. Santana es potser l’últim crack de rock llatí dels anys 60 encara actiu. Tot un punt de referencia per un guitarrisme amb ritme improvisat que malauradament en molts llocs ja no existeix.
Fa dos anys la meva parella va veure Santana en directe a San Diego i em va comentar que encara ofereix un performance poderós. I a més, amb forta consciència social. Va fer diversos crits en defensa del poble hispànic a California. El guanyador al final dels 60 va ser Richard Nixon però sembla que va sobreviure trets d’aquella resistència contracultura.
*El bateria de 1969 Michael Shrieve posteriorment va produir música ambient de sintetizador que no té res a veure amb el rotllo freakout, però igual de maco com Transfer Station Blue o View from the Window.
In Conversation With… Mark Warrington
Mark Warrington is a hugely talented UK based artist, who has painted many figurative pieces, including the artwork on the iconic Claremont 56 record sleeves. He kindly agreed to chat to us about art, music and his many projects.
El Puto Guiri: Hello Mark, what have you been up to?
MW: I’ve just recently finished a project for Big Zuu’s 12 Dishes show on ITV. He goes to a different European city every episode with a celeb guest and they try 12 different dishes. I had to illustrate each plate of food which totalled 72 illustrations across the series. It was so much work to get through but doing one thing for so long does improve your practice whether it then translates into more commercial or personal work. One of the episodes was down the coast from you in Valencia.
EPG: We’re heading there in August for a gig!
MW: Drawing those dishes really made me want to go there, nice simple food. Now I know what I'm getting when ordering some horchata con fartons or a slice of Coca de llanda con chocolate y naranja.
I was averaging 2 illustrations a day which got me thinking about the future of this kind of work, when a TV producer might instead choose to use an AI specialist to type a few text prompts so the software makes it in hours rather than me taking 2 months. I don’t think it’d look quite the same as human made work, and the level of control to create a specific image would be reduced, but would that matter if it cost half the amount? In my opinion, at the moment it’s still too uncontrollable and has a specific hyperreal look and surreal feel. This does look good in it’s own right but in the future it’ll be a problem for me as it becomes more user friendly. As a writer I’m sure you feel the same, but I think it’s easy to spot..
EPG: Yeah.. the kind of AI that made me redundant last year!
MW: For marketing copywriting it’s more successful as that style of writing is so formulaic… ‘taking you on a life journey’ etc. With creative writing I think the threat is less, it surely can’t ever grasp the subtleties of human observation, emotional experience and regional humour which makes reading so enjoyable.
EPG: We first met years ago on music forums and at parties around London. For me that era feels increasingly hazy now. I do still miss the parks!
MW: I moved from Macclesfield to London in 2002 and located to Brixton. I used to go to Brockwell Park back then and the Lido on a hot day was just like a Martin Parr photo. And also down at Stockwell skatepark nearly every evening. London parks, summer and good times all go hand in hand, I loved that aspect of the city.
I was actually introduced to the DJ History music forum (and associated Lowlife parties) in the middle of the Hudson River on a Danny Krivit boat party. I think in 2005 I met our mutual friend and Lowlife regular Rohan. He told me if I’m into this I should check out Lowlife. He was right, we ended up going to most of them in the following years and gradually got to know lots of the regulars.
EPG: Didn’t you call yourself Goldstitch at the time? Was that an alter ego?
MW: I took my handle from Goldstitch Moss, a beautiful moor not far from me in the Peak District. Along its crest, known as the roaches, the rocky outcrops and boulders have been moulded into strange forms from millions of years of sideways northern rain. I sometimes reference these in my paintings.
EPG: I remember a gig we went to 15 years ago at sadly defunct venue Cargo, featuring Arpadys, a French 70s funk/disco act hauled out of obscurity for the evening.
MW: I didn’t know Cargo was gone! At that time I’d never seen or heard anything like Arpadys, properly skilled live musicians playing true cosmic disco. Their track ‘Funky Bass’ is one of those that could happily go on and on. I didn’t really know many of the people from the DJH forum but a lot of the members must have been there, there was a real buzz about it. Other memorable live gigs I saw there were Tortured Soul, Glass Candy and Femi Kuti. Also nice summer evenings drinking with friends in the garden to the side.
There was also the Black Rat Press gallery in the very end arch of Cargo’s garden alley with the Banksy ‘designated graffiti area’ piece wall. There was always fresh art to be seen inside and out. It was often private views on a Thursday where free beers were always available to encourage sales to a busy after work crowd. It was a social for artists and lots of connections were made. There was always something opening at one of the galleries such as Pictures on Walls, Stolen Space or Lazarides in Soho and I was fully immersed in it all. I did end up buying lots of prints over the years, so well played by the galleries I suppose.
EPG: I also remember a wild week at Folk Ibiza nearly 15 years ago, when we booked to go on a phantom pirate ship with some Mancunians. For readers unfamiliar with that story, how would you sum it up? Or did I imagine it all?
MW: When we received two torn strips of t-shirt (wristbands) and a loose itinerary in the post we were wondering what was in store..
EPG: A total shambles, haha..
MW: It was chaotic and DIY but at the same time everything about it was perfect. An all-star lineup of DJs (in my view) spread across different beach locations across the island each day. From memory there was Mudd, Jan Hammered, Coyote, Balearic Mike, Kelvin Andrews, the Idjut Boys. At Cala Gracioneta we listened to Jan, Mike and Mudd play right next to the beach. As sunset approached the party carried the soundsystem up the hill to the next venue for the evening party. There was an impromptu performance by one of the Gypsy Kings..
EPG: Gipsy Moreno!
MW: He had a weekly slot there on that night, so our party was put on hold for his set. It was quite fitting so all was good. I guess he had a much bigger and different crowd than usual with all of the Folk crowd there.
EPG: Is that how your involvement with Claremont 56 originally came about? A label I hugely admire. Consistently beautiful music. You probably get asked this a lot but how do you approach the sleeve art?
MW: I’d known Mudd and his friend / DJ partner Andy Allday for a while as I used to always go to their ‘keep it carpet’ nights at the Red Lion in Angel (London). When we were at the Sunset Ashram in Ibiza on part of the Folk tour, I showed him a few of my pieces. When we got back to the UK he invited me to create some artwork for the Mountaineer CD. It features a figure which is quite different from anything I have done for C56 since. Next it was the first Almunia LP, which I think was one of the paintings I originally showed Mudd. We pursued this direction for everything that followed.
EPG: What other projects have you been working on?
MW: I’ve recently finished a painting for the Claremont Editions series.
I was on it for months but really enjoyed making it. Half way through I realised I needed to start using glasses. It was like having a new pair of eyes so I became more enthusiastic about fine details. I'm a keen gardener, indoor and out. My interest in plants and their many forms gives me a good base to make these kinds of paintings. I’m also enjoying pencil sketching on A4 sheets, abstract forms which don’t really have any place yet but I plan to turn them into a series of paintings in the future. I do love working in natural light but I tend to paint in the evenings as it’s quieter, it’s the best way to listen to lots of music and get away from screens.
For the bulk of my work I have a studio in an old silk mill in Macclesfield where I'm now based again. I’ve also been the main artist and animator on Channel 4’s 8 out of 10 cats does countdown since 2016. Most noteworthy were my illustrations for Sean Lock’s ‘The Tiger that came for a pint’ which featured on the show and have had millions of views on YouTube.
I’ve given up asking people to stop bootlegging it - it’s all over Etsy with people illegitimately selling my work using pixelated screen grabs from TV. Leeches. It’d be good to release it full resolution to raise money for cancer research, which was what cruelly took him away from us. I’m not sure what the estate of Judith Kerr would have to say though.
EPG: I remember we met up in Barcelona when you were here and had a few drinks at the Switch Pocket Club in Gracia. What were your thoughts on the city in terms of the design, exhibitions etc?
MW: I first visited Barcelona in the mid 90s with my parents. They took me to see the Picasso museum and the Miró gallery up on the hill so I've always associated the city with these artists and been inspired. I also enjoyed being able to go record shopping at 11pm. When Em [Mark’s wife] and I came a few years back it was my 40th and a short break away for us from being new parents. In that respect you could have taken me anywhere really, but that first place [Cueva de Lobos] was really cosy and felt well off the tourist trail. I think we may have been in the wrong place for a catch up during the acoustic guitar performance. Switch Pocket was a nice little club too.
EPG: If any Spanish readers were to visit your part of NW England, where would you recommend they go for art, music, culture?
MW: I was spoiled in London for my art and culture fix and never took it for granted. Manchester is close so when I go there I visit the Manchester Art Gallery and get absorbed in the Pre-Raphaelite paintings which are on permanent view there. Also the Whitworth Gallery which is a typical grand Mancunian red brick building, now with stunning, angular modernist additions at the back jutting out into Whitworth Park, which is a bit edgy in itself. I’m on a clubbing break, having 2 young boys, but I’d go to The White Hotel and also Hidden Club in Manchester, where they seem to be doing things right.
EPG: What are you listening to right now? Has any good/criminally neglected music caught your ear we might not know about?
MW: You know this changes daily but today: Colours of Silence by Wally Badarou. I tend to keep it mellow in the studio. While painting last night I was really digging the Ramzi – Hyphea LP which reminded me of records Rob Bright played early doors at Bugged Out at Sankeys in the 90s.
EPG: It feels to me like 'The Scene' as it was, has fragmented as people dispersed and other priorities took over. Do you think there still is a 'scene' or is it just very occasional summer reunions now?
MW: I think the scene has always lived on the internet, geeking over old mixes etc so that lives on. Occasional parties are becoming ever more so, but I thought that was just me. If it is fragmented, then sites such as TestPressing and El Puto Guiri keep those bonds in place.
*You can find out more about Mark’s art on his site and Instagram page.