MONKEY'S SUNDAY SWING #3: SAY IT LOUD, I'M BRIT AND I'M PROUD

Amongst the “could try harder” comments that peppered my school reports, one memorable assessment when I was 13 read “Mark is a cynic”. With that in mind I wasn’t expecting much from the Olympic opening ceremony beyond being able to post sarcastic comments on Twitter but it moved me quite unexpectedly and even more now I think back. Britons don’t usually display national pride well, it can come across wrong or make us feel uncomfortable, but this celebrated the people of Great Britain with imagination and humour. From the stylish way Mod of the Moment and genuine sporting great Bradley Wiggins casually rang the opening bell, the historic and cultural references in Danny Boyle’s spectacular show came so thick and fast it was hard to keep up. The best part of a billion viewers worldwide must’ve wondered what the devil was going on – this was about Great Britain, ignoring the 203 other competing countries - as it paid tribute to the Industrial Revolution, the National Health Service, the suffragettes, trade unions, immigrants disembarking the Empire Windrush, Steven Lawrence, Liberty, the victims of 7/7, Chelsea pensioners, Pearly Kings and Queens, Tim Berners-Lee, Ken Loach, even Clare Grogan and goodness knows who else. Having the Olympic flame lit, not by someone whose achievements are in the past but by seven young people whose time has yet to come was truly fitting. Bar the occasional Mr Bean moment and Muhammad Ali’s dreadful condition it was wonderfully done: innovative, surprising, inspiring and a little subversive. A little bit bonkers. Isn’t that what we should all aspire to? Educational and entertaining, I’d stick it in school curriculums tomorrow. The only one looking nonplussed was Her Majesty who idly picked her nails as her subjects paraded in front of her to the strain of Bowie’s “Heroes”. But she’s the Queen, and she don’t caaaare.   

The British music industry, the soundtrack to our lives, was loudly championed and not by fly-by-night Cult of Celebrity, Creations of Cowell either: The Who, The Kinks, the Sex Pistols, The Clash, The Jam railing against kidney machines being replaced and guns, Blur, Prodigy, Amy Winehouse, right up to gutsy live appearances from the Arctic Monkeys and Dizzee Rascal. In the ancient Beatles versus the Stones saga, the Beatles came out top again, like they sadly always do, with Paul McCartney wheezing breathlessly under the weight of his hair extensions through “Hey Jude” for the finale. Think how much better it would’ve been for the Rolling Stones, celebrating their 50th year together, to have tapped out “Sympathy For The Devil” with 80,000 people joining in with the “woo-whos”. It would’ve been an improvement on “na-na-na-nanana-na” and Keef could’ve lit a giant doobie from the Olympic flame. 

From Brian Jones seeking out like-minded souls wanting to play “negro music” to their multi-million pound incarnation, the Stones represent a phenomenal British achievement in spreading rock ‘n’ roll throughout the world (ouch, that sounds like I’ve whored myself to a PR company, please forgive me). They didn’t invent it, didn’t do an awful lot with it to be honest, but they made it go a very long way with everyone from Howlin’ Wolf to you and I benefiting. They’re always knocked for being old duffers who should’ve packed in long ago but longevity in any relationship should be respected and admired. They’re in job they enjoy and do well - 2005’s A Bigger Bang is a far better LP than you might imagine. 

A new exhibition at London’s Somerset House displays 76 photographs from the official Rolling Stones 50 book, a weighty hardback tome featuring over 1000 pictures and costs thirty quid should your shelf need another Stones book; the exhibition is free and the majority of images here are from the 60s: the ill-fitting matching dogtooth jackets of 1963 to Brian’s sacking in 1969. Throughout that period they wore great boots and knew how to tie a scarf; important things. They were also a thorn in the backside of the establishment who harassed them and tried throwing them in jail. That same establishment now gives Mick a knighthood - and the BBC who once banned the Pistols’ “God Save The Queen” now blasts it to every corner of the world during the opening of the Olympics – so who was right? Those who go out on a limb achieve things. It’s easy to forget how surprising, inspiring and subversive the Stones and the Sex Pistols were; but they were, and we should be proud.      

The Rolling Stones 50 exhibition is at Somerset House, London WC2R 1LA until 27 August 2012, admission free. The Rolling Stones 50 is published by Thames and Hudson, priced £30. The Olympic Games is on your television until 12 August 2012.

ELECTRICAL BANANA: MASTERS OF PSYCHEDELIC ART by NORMAN HATHAWAY & DAN NADEL (2012)

In his foreword to Electrical Banana Paul McCartney comes close to claiming the Beatles invented psychedelic art. He’s a cheeky sod but few would argue the animation of Yellow Submarine is one of the most familiar examples of the genre. That was in fact the work of German illustrator and designer Heinz Edelmann, who notes “even in America it was believed the Beatles had created it themselves”.  He’s not bitter but is dismissive of the concept and clichés of the then emerging style. “I’m allergic to a few things in psychedelia: disembodied eyes and disembodied lips”. 

Edelmann is one of seven exponents of a loosely connected style whose work, along with new interviews, features in a suitably colourful and well produced new book.  Disembodied eyes and lips were the stock in trade for Martin Sharp. His posters for Oz; his album sleeves for Cream; his Roundhouse flyers; even the hallway in the film Performance looked and smiled from all directions.  Dudley Edwards painted furniture; shop interiors and exteriors; Paul McCartney’s piano; as well as cars, including the Buick the Kinks posed with. Marijke Koger was a quarter of the art group The Fool that designed sleeves for The Move, The Incredible String Band, their own record and, most famously, the mural on The Beatles ill-fated Apple shop. Keiichi Tanaami isn’t a name I was familiar with but his sharp pop-art collages are my favourite pages in Electrical Banana. Mati Kalrwein designed Miles Davis’s Bitches Brew and had strong yet intricate style. Finally, Tadanori Yokoo is another artist who didn’t see themselves as psychedelic but whose use of colour, collage and garish fantasy fits the bill like a pair of velvet loons.

Electrical Banana: The Masters of Psychedelic Art by Norman Hathaway and Dan Nadel is published by Damiani, priced £27.

SIR PETER BLAKE IN CONVERSATION at the VICTORIA AND ALBERT MUSEUM

In a prolific career stretching back over fifty years Sir Peter Blake is known for one piece of artwork and design more than any other. It’s the most famous album sleeve of all time, housing a reasonable record, and although it’s become an irritation to the man there’s no escaping the name Peter Blake will always be synonymous with The Who’s 1981 Face Dances.

He will come to that, but first he recounts how he studied – initially more by chance and on a hunch than any predetermined plan - painting and design at Gravesend Technical College and then the Royal College of Art during the 40s and 50s and how both disciplines have shaped his career. He was told he’d never make a career as a painter so also took design classes and the main focus of his talk, lasting over an hour, is his design work to coincide with the forthcoming publication of Design, a retrospective by Brian Webb and Peyton Skipwith. It is Brian Webb steering the questions giving the talk structure with a selection of images. Having seen a few talks at the V&A they can suffer from a poorly prepared questioner or a reluctant interviewee – neither is the case here. Webb knows his onions and Blake is an engaging speaker with anecdotes tumbling forth with only time restraints trimming his answers.

Self Portrait with Badges (1961), one of his most recognisable earlier paintings remains one of his – and my – favourites. The references to popular culture that make him the poppiest of the pop artists are clearly in evidence but without the nostalgic romanticism that came later. Webb remarks on his lack of angst and Blake explains artists have different incentives to create art: some for political reasons, some to show loss or mourning, his aim is to celebrate, “although I can do angst if you want”.

There is no reference to The First Real Target (1961) but Babe Rainbow (1968) and her growing family is joyfully covered. Watch out for future offspring.

There’s a section about his record sleeves which includes Face Dances, the “”Do They Know It’s Christmas?” single, surprisingly no mention of Stanley Road, but a fair bit on Oasis’s Stop The Clocks compilation. He’d originally produced an adaption of the Granny Takes A Trip shop front but ended with a photograph of items from his studio that Noel Gallagher liked the look of. He’d slyly hoped myths might develop about the significance of the items used but was disappointed when none did. Don’t worry Pete, I’d take that more as a reflection on the lack of interest in Oasis than you. The doll in the blue dress however was used in the garden part of Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

Oh yeah, Sgt Pepper. He doesn’t much want to talk about his “albatross” but both he and Webb know he can’t escape that easily, so he does. He tells about the making of it but wishes he’d done Pet Sounds instead. On his way today someone stuffed Pepper in front of him to sign and nowadays he charges ten quid to do it which he gives to a children’s charity. The previous week during one day alone he’d raised £1200. You can see the relief when the topic changes.

It’s interesting to hear him talk about working once a week on a computer (“a seventh of my time” which shows how busy he is) and how he could knock up a whole show in one day if he felt like it and that one design might only take him half an hour. Yet that balances against “fine art” commissions from St Paul’s Cathedral which could take a couple of years to complete.

After Webb rounds things up to the present day with the new book jackets for Penguin and a Glastonbury poster he offers the audience the chance to ask a few questions, “but not about Sgt. Pepper” adds Blake to everyone’s amusement. Yes, over there, first question. “I wanted to ask you about Sgt. Pepper…”

Peter Blake Design by Peyton Skipwith and Brian Webb will be published by Antique Collectors’ Club in November 2010, priced £12.50