JOHN 'HOPPY' HOPKINS - HOPPY REMEMBERED WITH NEW SITE

LSD meets CND. Hoppy in London.

In the 2015 obituary for his friend, John Hopkins, John Boyd wrote the “counterculture took much of its inspiration from him, and he was the closest thing the movement ever had to a leader.”

Hoppy was central to so much of the 60s underground scene, his restless energy pivotal to sell-out poetry readings at the Royal Albert Hall; the creation of underground newspaper, International Times; the ground-breaking psychedelic all-nighter, the UFO Club; the 14 Hour Technicolour Dream at the Alexandra Palace; and even sowing seeds for the Notting Hill carnival. Hoppy was a scene-maker, creator and pied-piper, clearing a path for others to follow. The authorities were less enamoured with his activities, raiding his flat for a small amount of Mary Jane, they threw him in jail, calling him a “menace to society”.

Before all this took up his time Hopkins was primarily a photographer, with his focus on political protest, social issues and music, appearing in, amongst others, Peace News, The Sunday Times and Melody Maker.

Now, I’m delighted to see a website, HoppyX, has recently appeared dedicated to Hoppy, his life and achievements. The image gallery is stunning and the recollections from his friends are delightful and inspiring in equal measure.

“Hoppy was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease in 2007, around the time of his 70th birthday. The decline is slow but inexorable. Hoppy remains active in his chosen pursuits until his physical faculties fail him, graciously allowing himself to be interviewed many times by younger generations as they gradually discover his historical significance.”

I can vouch for this. After publication in 2008 of From The Hip: Photographs of John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins 1960-66 by Damiani, I went to Hoppy’s flat to collect a copy of the book. I expected to simply go there, pick it up and come away but was invited in, made a cup of tea, and we spent a long time going through the book, page by page, with Hoppy providing generous commentary to anything I paused on. I’d later purchase a print of a suitably steely-looking William Burroughs taken in New York.

After that, and with his health obviously deteriorating, I’d still frequently see Hoppy attending various exhibitions, talks and readings around London. That I’d see him more than any other person at these events always struck me as how deeply rooted and supportive he was – still - in the more marginal elements of the arts and society. He never gave it up.

Before you go to explore Hoppy’s site, the last word to the man himself whose inscription in my copy of From The Hip reads: “To Mark & Paula, Be happy for no reason, Best wishes, Hoppy.”

https://hoppyx.com/

William Burroughs in New York. Photo by Hoppy.

Blues Inc. Alexis Korner, Dick Heckstall-Smith, Cyril Davies at the Marquee. Photo by Hoppy.

CND Fence Rest. Photo by Hoppy.

Allen Ginsberg point to the Royal Albert Hall. Photo by Hoppy.

A WORLD TO WIN: POSTERS OF PROTEST AND REVOLUTION at the WILLIAM MORRIS GALLERY, E17

“I went down to the demonstration…” Okay, I didn’t, that was Mick Jagger, I went down to the gallery but it did have an exhibition of protest posters and was the William Morris Gallery. Seeing how Morris was a pioneering late-19^th Century socialist who knew a thing or two about design and print it was a most fitting environment, almost like being on the frontline, and had the added benefit of reducing the likelihood of being kettled-in by the pigs for eight hours. With my bladder I can’t take chances like that, comrades.

Displayed in eight sections - Smashing The System, New Dawns, Ongoing Revolutions, All Power To The People, No!, Subvertising, Bearing Witness and Print It Yourself – the posters spanned over a century of protest and campaigning from across the globe. Not only was it difficult to argue against most of the topics (I raised a fist in solidarity, it was the least I could do) but even from a purely aesthetic angle it was interesting to see the differing styles on display.

It’ll surprise no one my eyes were mostly drawn to the 60s and 70s items. There was young Fidel Castro, rest his revolutionary soul, on a poster by artist Rene Mederos commemorating, in 1969, The Tenth Anniversary of the Triumph of the Cuban Rebellion. Look at all their happy cheering faces and bright gay colours. Hurrah! Not quite as celebratory but almost as wordy was To Hell With Their Profits – Stop Forcing Drugging of Psychiatric Inmates (1978) by Rachael Romero from San Francisco, whose style wasn’t dissimilar to Emory Douglas, the Black Panther Party’s Minister of Culture who provided the Party with such a strong visual identity including, here, All People To The People, from the early 70s.

Talking of the Black Panthers, just a photograph of Angela Davis, resplendent in huge afro, was a powerful message hung on a wall without the need for any supporting text. Whereas at the other end of the spectrum, Polaris No! (1961) by Robin Fior relied solely on bold text and striking colour to make a point about Britain’s first nuclear submarine based programme, not that it’s obvious to the uninitiated from this distance in time. For what it’s worth this was my favourite.

For those not so keen on subtlety, Fuck The Draft (1968) by Kiyoshi Kuromiya out in Philadelphia does the job and as a bonus was originally advertised for sale via mail order with the added incentive as being ‘the perfect gift for Mothers’ Day’). Here Mum, got you this for the living room. Into the 1980s and an unnamed Class War activist created Lets Kick Out The Tories? Lets Kick Them In. As it currently stands the only thing Class War have kicked out successfully is the use of apostrophes. From small acorns.

All of this activism needs a soundtrack and as a centrepiece (quite literally) Ruth Ewan has created A Jukebox of People Trying to Change The World (2003-2012), a free-to-use jukebox collecting 2000 songs which “pays homage to those who have dared to speak out with a creative voice calling for freedom, social justice and equality”. Over 70 categories and featuring artists and songs famous and obscure it’s the mother of all jukeboxes. Even the Rolling Stones were there with ‘Street Fighting Man’. Young Jagger, as he sang, did get his fair share of abuse when he flounced along to the demonstration but let’s be honest he wasn’t really a street fighting man was he? What was he gonna do; give someone a thick ear with an elongated vowel?

But I digress, this is a stirring and inspiring collection. Go get organised.

A World to Win: Posters of Protest and Revolution is at the William Morris Gallery, Walthamstow, E17 until 15 January 2017, admission free.

UNDERCURRENT OF BLUE NOTE JAZZ FOR SUEDE?

There are no flies on Monkey Picks’ jazz correspondent, Monkey Snr, who following yesterday’s review of Suede's Night Thoughts première spotted a striking similarity between their new album’s artwork and that of Undercurrent, a 1962 release on Blue Note by pianist Bill Evans and guitarist Jim Hall.

The original photograph, entitled Weeki Wachee Spring, Florida was taken by Tom Frissell in 1947. The Suede image is from Roger Sargent's new Night Thoughts film.  

SWINGING SIXTIES LONDON at FOAM, AMSTERDAM

So, spent a few days in Amsterdam last week and guess what the very first thing I saw when stepping off the bus outside my hotel? No, not that – there were plenty of unhuman looking creatures comprised of 40% silicone elsewhere (in fairness the city’s more notorious elements are mainly restricted to a couple of streets) – but the welcome sight of Twiggy photographed by Terence Donovan in 1966 in front of a Union Jack advertising a local exhibition “Swinging Sixites London – Photography in the Capital of Cool”.

Did seem slightly odd to travel from London for a break and then within an hour be wandering around a gallery depicting my city but obviously it had to be done. And very good it was too, loads to see. Most of the exhibits were familiar but welcome nonetheless. The photographers, models and groovy set all present, correct and looking fab: Terence Donovan, Brian Duffy, Norman Parkinson, Philip Townsend, John Cowan, Eric Swayne, Twiggy, Jean Shrimpton, Jane Birkin, Grace Coddington, Celia Hammond, Jean Kennington, Julie Christie, Sarah Miles, Terence Stamp, Michael Caine, the Rolling Stones, you know the ones.

In addition it was good to see John “Hoppy” Hopkins representing a different side of the era with political protests, skirmishes on the streets of Ruislip and scraggy haired poets waving accusatory fingers in the Royal Albert Hall; and James Barnor offering a contrast by using black models in conjunction with famous London sights.

Although fashion photography changed dramatically during the period the accompanying exhibition booklet acknowledges the concept of “Swinging London” was little more than a myth and “many Londoners still lived in poverty and vast swaths of the city were still in ruin”. True but it was a city teeming with possibilities and opportunities that weren’t previously available.

Swinging Sixties London is at Foam Fotografiemuseum , Keizersgracht 609, Amsterdam. Open every day until 2 September 2015. Admission 10 Euros.

Whilst on the subject of Amsterdam, it’s worth mentioning how many good record shops there are if you’re visiting. The best I discovered was the smart Waxwell Records. My jaw nearly hit the floor at the wall display alone and the stock of rare quality LPs – especially soul and jazz – was incredible and fairly priced. Their “Black Interest” section alone contained albums featuring Malcom X, The Last Poets, Elijah Muhammad, Martin Luther King and Richard Pryor. I only had time to scratch the surface but quickly swiped The Return of the Marvelettes on Tamla (the ladies riding into town on horseback) and Free At Last, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr on Gordy. What I left behind doesn’t bear thinking about.

Waxwell Records, Gasthuismolensteeg 8, Amsterdam. Open daily from 1200. 

33RPM – A VENTURE IN VINYL by DEAN BELCHER

The Smiths - Hatful of Hollow

London Philharmonic Orchestra - Peter and the Wolf 

Dexys Midnight Runners - Geno

Adam & The Ants - Kings Of The Wild Frontier

Entering a shop to buy a record for the very first time is a disappearing practice but one which lives forever in the memory of those who used their pocket money to take home a piece a precious vinyl.

London photographer Dean Belcher’s latest project is a series of portraits of 33 individuals each clutching the first record they bought. It’s a great series which captures something of the emotional attachment we have for these objects. It’s not only about the sound we hear when playing a single, album or old 78, but removing the record from the sleeve, reading the small print on the label, and investing time and money into a pastime that’s almost as important.

Dean’s portraits cover all ages and it’s refreshing to see as many women as men. It’s interesting to see how the subjects, for me, fit into different categories including: those who bought kids’ records (Goofy Greats, Yogi Bear); those who purchased the big hits of the day (Sweet, The Police, Arctic Monkeys) and those who struck pure gold by buying some the greatest records ever made on their first attempt (Curtis Mayfield, The Smiths). Some people seem to perfectly match their purchase, others are less obvious, and some quite possibly have a loose connection with the truth. I wish I could claim mine was “Anarchy In The UK” after listening to John Peel under the covers rather than hearing Noel Edmonds play “Captain Beaky and His Band” by Keith Michell in my dad’s car going to see my Granma.

Monkey Picks asked Dean about his photos.

What sparked the idea to take portraits of people with their first record and what did you hope to capture?

 A lot of personal projects I work on are quite long term so I was looking for something I could shoot and show quite quickly. I've never been a vinyl collector per se but I have always bought vinyl. I was in a local record shop recently where I saw two teenage lads going crazy over an old Beatles album and saw the same excitement I got when I bought records every week. I knew I wanted to shoot something exploring this subject and needed something to anchor the theme. One thing about buying vinyl is you generally make a more considered decision (than streaming or downloading) and often have to put some physical effort in. What better link than the first record you bought consciously doing all those things. 

Did you find a theme developing through the series? Did you discover anything you hadn't expected?

I'm not sure anything unexpected happened except I think there may have been a little more fibbing than expected! There was definitely a theme though which I did expect and that was generally joy and laughter and a lot of reminiscing, everyone was emotive in one way or another which is exactly what I wanted.

There are people of different ages in the series. Did their relationship to vinyl differ?

Now that was very interesting. Us of a certain age had little choice but to buy our music this way and it was initially for most heavily influenced by outside sources such as the radio, Top of the Pops and very much the Top Ten; initially in any case, we all of course quickly find our feet and form wider influences. The younger people on the other hand have always had access to pretty much anything via streaming or downloads, what they do not have is an infinite access to new music on vinyl and it's relatively more expensive so the very young with limited funds tended to go for used vinyl, the 30-somethings tended to choose carefully on new releases but still felt that owning the tactile vinyl was nicer and better for their very favourites.

 

There’s a story behind everyone’s first record. In some of the photographs it’s easy to imagine what that story was, less so in others. Can you tell us anything about the lady with the Vera Lynn 78? She looks great.

Ah Nana Dewhurst, what an interesting woman. She made wedding dresses including the Queen’s. Her husband was also a very interesting character who after the war worked at The Dorchester. He travelled a lot both during the war and before. One of the interesting things was he was fluent in the languages of all the countries he was based in, including India and Burma. Anyway it was out there he saw Vera Lynn perform for the soldiers. I'm not sure if this was the reason they both liked her but Nana bought that record in Woolworths in Brixton as soon as it came out with one of her first wage packets working for Norman Hartnell, the aforementioned dress maker.

Tell us about the first record you bought.  

I'm not sure I have the very first one. I had a milk round and bought records every week from the age of about 11, very much influenced by what was going on at the time and before I set out my stall, so to speak, choosing which "tribe" I was to belong to. I remember buying New Wave as well as cheesy pop like “Bright Eyes” along with things like “Ain't No Stopping Us Now” and “Happy Radio”. I still have most but can't find the New Wave which I put down to the fact that in ‘79 when I decided Mod was for me I couldn’t possibly listen to this old Punk/New Wave stuff. Funnily enough though I still have “Uptown Top Ranking” which I would have bought before the "epiphany”. Thankfully my blinkered view didn’t last long. Oh, and first album was Plastic Bertrand from Boots. My dad questioned my buying an album entirely sang in Belgium/French but the cover was good and I could hang it on my wall.

What are your plans for the collection?

I had no definite plans but having put it out there the response has been great, within a day a couple of magazines have expressed an interest in publishing it which is great and even better a gallery has been in touch about a possible exhibition. I'd quite like to self-publish it as a book too.

Very many thanks to Dean.

To view the complete completion visit 33rpm A Venture In Vinyl.

To see more from Dean Belcher visit Dean Belcher Photographer.

Vera Lynn - It's A Sin To Tell A Lie

Showaddywaddy - Red Star

Hanna-Barbera - Yogi Bear TV Theme Tune

MODERNIST REVIVAL by JONATHAN MORTIMER (2014)

This is an odd one. Published by Café Royal Books, Modernist Revival is a series of black and white photographs by Jonathan Mortimer with no accompanying text. No names, no years, no places.

It’s only because I recognise many friends and places I’m able to tell you most were taken in Gijon in Spain, the Isle of Wight and Brighton. Putting a year on them is more difficult as although I was probably there that period is now a hazy mush but I’d say circa 1998. A few of the photos are interesting to see what the Mod Scene looked like at that (undisclosed) time but most are fairly routine and unremarkable snaps. The cover image is particularly terrifying and a bizarre choice.

Modernist Revival, 28 x A5 pages (some blank), limited to 150 copies. £5 plus P&P from Cafe Royal Books.

TAKING SHOTS: WILLIAM S. BURROUGHS AT 100

“ROCK AND ROLL ADOLESCENTS STORM INTO THE STREETS OF ALL NATIONS. THEY RUSH INTO THE LOUVRE AND THROW ACID IN THE MONA LISA’S FACE. THEY OPEN ZOOS, INSANE ASYLUMS, PRISONS, BURST WATER MAINS WITH AIR HAMMERS, CHOP THE FLOOR OUT OF PASSENGER PLANE LAVATORIES, SHOOT OUT LIGHTHOUSES, TURN SEWERS INTO THE WATER SUPPLY, ADMINISTER INJECTIONS WITH BICYCLE PUMPS, THEY SHIT ON THE FLOOR OF THE UNITED NATIONS AND WIPE THEIR ASS WITH TREATIES, PACTS, ALLIANCES.”

William Burroughs

The above extract from Naked Lunch was printed – like that, in capital letters – on the back of Manic Street Preachers single “Motown Junk”. When I bought that record, one snowy Saturday afternoon in January 1991, I knew who William Burroughs but hadn't read him. Those lines perfectly complimented the exhilarating speed rush of this new Welsh punk band I was hearing for the first time. It turned out to be momentous afternoon; I've still not bought a better record and have yet to discover anybody comparable to William Seward Burroughs.

Before the next Manics release I’d ploughed through Burroughs’ Junky, Queer and Naked Lunch. The first two were straight narratives, easy to follow and opened the lid into worlds I was not familiar. The third, well, what the flaming hell was that all about? If there was a “story” I couldn't fathom it – I shouldn't have bothered looking - but individual passages were unlike anything I’d read before. When Richey Edwards later said "Books were just as exciting to us as records," it was clear what he had in mind. 

I found the Manics quote. It was longer than their cut-up version on their sleeve and included a passage about candiru – an eel-like fish – which would “dart up your prick or your asshole or a woman’s cunt” and hold itself there with sharp spines. If candiru were frightening, they were nothing compared to what a mugwump could do to you sat in your local bar. What was based on fact and what was from Burroughs’ disturbed imagination (Jack Kerouac had nightmares after typing Bill’s manuscript pages) was difficult to ascertain but this was incredible stuff. Likewise, it was difficult to tell what was past, present or future. Sections like Hassan’s Rumpus Room, where murderous sex games were played out, were genuinely shocking – I couldn't believe Burroughs got away with this in the 1950s – but other parts were just plain funny. Having a quick flick through it again today that mixture of shock and comedy hasn't diminished. Who else would instigate a scene set in Cunt Lick, Texas?

The more of his books I read the less I seemed to understand – his cut-up books I still struggle with – but as a man he soon became, and firmly remains, a source of endless fascination. At my imaginary dinner party he'd be sat at the top of the table with Keith Richards to his right. We'd pass on the food. There are so many eyeball kicks to be had in his work. Some I “get”, some I haven’t a Scooby what he’s on about but I like the mix of his subversive nature and desert-dry humour. Bill may have been deadly serious about time travel and telepathy and the Ugly Spirit but I can’t help think he was putting us on much of the time; his pursed lips and involuntary twitch giving him away. As Darran Anderson wrote in his excellent piece for The Quietus the other week: “William S. Burroughs was a high modernist and a writer of complete trash; the two are by no means mutually exclusive. He was a genius and a bullshit artist.”

This year marks the William S. Burroughs Centenary (born 5th February 1914 in St. Louis) with events taking place around the world to mark the occasion, co-ordinated by the official Burroughs 100 website. London is well represented with two exhibitions currently showing.

The first is Taking Shots: The Photography of William S. Burroughs at the Photographers’ Gallery, Ramillies Street, W1 with its title neatly alluding to Bill’s preoccupation with photography, junk and firearms. Photography being the least well known and this is the first exhibition to focus on a previously overlooked area. Burroughs took thousands of photographs but they were a means to an end. He used them to inform his writing, creating characters out of his shots or capturing people and scenes he believed he’d already written about. Time, for Burroughs, didn't run in a chronological order the way it does to you and me, and he’d systematically attempt to jump and cut between time frames. He’d also use his photos for collages, including taking photos of photos and repeating the process until the images were indistinguishable.

For Burroughs, “The collage is like flower arranging,” a subject his mother, Laura Lee Burroughs, knew well and published volumes of books on the subject. Her prim guide “Flower Arranging – A Fascinating Hobby” gives advice on how to keep a modern home stocked with ice-cold Coca-Cola, is displayed feet away from a series of photographs showing Bill’s bed before and after sex. Quite what ma would have made of her son displaying his jizz-stained bed sheets to all and sundry I can’t imagine.

Burroughs' main theme was control and how to fight against agents of control and authority, whoever or whatever they were, and he’d use photography and tape recordings in his arsenal to, according to biographer Barry Miles, "disrupt the space-time continuum and cause change." When in 1972 “the horrible old proprietor, his frizzy-haired wife and slack-jawed son” of London’s first ever espresso bar, the Moka Bar off Shaftsbury Avenue, upset Bill with “outrageous and unprovoked discourtesy and poisonous cheesecake” he would return every few days to record the place and play back the recordings and take more and more photographs.  Two months later the coffee bar closed down and a satisfied Burroughs rubbed his hands with a job well done.

Taking Shots is filled with fascinating artefacts - although a Burroughs novice would struggle to see the relevance of snaps of radio towers, desolate St. Louis streets or unnamed young men hanging around Piccadilly – which reveal more of the man who knew no boundaries. Writer, painter, sculptor, explorer, exterminator, film maker, drug taker, collaborator, photographer, the list goes on: piecing together Burroughs’ life is like assembling a jigsaw with no edges.

One of my favourite Burroughs notions is that words are a virus that get inside us and take over. He’d challenge people to see how long they could go without thinking in words. Try it. Can you fight the words for more than a couple of seconds? With that in mind it was little wonder he’d turn his hand, especially in later life, to non-verbal forms of communication.

Around the corner from the Photographers’ Gallery is the aptly named Riflemaker gallery at 79 Beak Street, W1 and a small selection of Burroughs’ gunshot wooden sculptures, stencil paintings, target practice drawings, photography and illustrations. Burroughs might have been a paranoid, cold-hearted, wife-killing, misanthropist, dope fiend but he loved his cats. His slim book The Cat Inside is so out of character it'd make a lovely present for any Grandmother or cat doting spinster. In one painting at the Riflemaker a sequence of thick black vibrating squiggles becomes lip-quiveringly sad when in the bottom right corner his shaky hand writing reads “The cat who came here to die”. 

William S. Burroughs, rather miraculously, didn't die until 1997; he was 83 years old.

See also Burroughs 100 - The Official Website.
A hardback book to accompany Taking Shots: The Photography of William S. Burroughs is published by Prestel, priced £29.99.

William Burroughs 100 at the Riflemaker

BAILEY'S STARDUST at the NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY

Andy's Not Dead. Warhol by Bailey (1965)

The latest exhibition of David Bailey’s work brings together over 250 images from across the whole of his career so far, spanning more than 50 years.

Being Bailey portraits (and they are almost all portraits) one, for the most part, knows what to expect: lots of black and white shots against a plain white background. They are though stunning images and a great leveller; every person looks superb whether they’re Johnny Depp, a local hard-nut off the street, or a tattooed man with multiple piercings in his Prince Albert. Okay, Depp does look better; captured in 1995 he is almost impossibly handsome. I’d happily let Bailey take my portrait. I’m free most evenings and weekends Dave, although can’t do Saturday afternoons if QPR are at home.   

The rooms are arranged in themes. The Rolling Stones are pleased to meet you on entry, including a few colour images: Jagger from Goat’s Head Soup and a grinning Charlie Watts riding a donkey (a different shot to the cover of Get Yer Ya Yas Out!). There are also Black and White Icons (not sure I’d apply the word icon to Phil Collins, Action fan or not); Fashion Icons and Beauty; Hard Men; Box of Pin Ups; East End; and room devoted to his wife, Catherine.

Less familiar are the ones from his travels to Delhi, Papua New Guinea and Naga Hills. A selection taken with a mobile phone only seems to highlight its limitations and aren't especially interesting but Bailey's recent sculptures are. A bronze Dead Andy, with Warhol's sunken face made with baked beans and topped with a shock of white/blue hair rising out of a tin of beans, is pretty funny and more surprising.

It's a steep £14.50 admission but that didn't put off any of the hundreds of people there on a Monday afternoon. 

Bailey's Stardust is at the National Portrait Gallery, Leicester Square, WC2 until 1 June 2014.  

CURTIS MAYFIELD: COVER STAR COLLECTION

Here's a collection of music magazines featuring the mighty mighty Curtis Mayfield as cover star. If you know others I'd love to add them. Please get in touch and we'll see how many we can find.

Cash Box (1971)

Blues & Soul (1972)

Jet (1973)

Black Music (1974)

Blues & Soul (1974)

Blues & Soul (1975)

Jet (1976)

Melody Maker (1979)

New Musical Express (1983)

Blues & Soul (1994)

Goldmine (1997)

Mojo (2002)

Wax Poetics (2009)

N'digo (2013)

POP ART DESIGN at the BARBICAN

The current Pop Art Design exhibition at the Barbican has a familiar feel about it with many examples seen in London galleries in recent years: from Roy Lichtenstein’s comic strips; Ed Ruscha’s block text graphics; William Klein’s dazzling film montages; Harry Gordon’s paper poster dresses; Martin Sharp’s psychedelic posters; Richard Hamilton’s collages; Andy Warhol’s flowers; Peter Blake’s Beatles; Pauline Boty’s female icons and so forth. But Pop Art by its very nature is familiar with its appropriation of everyday items, branding, advertising and cultural figures.

Pop Art Design looks at how design – furniture, clothes, architecture, etc. - and Pop-Art are entwined and inform each other. Andy Warhol’s Close Cover Before Striking (1962), a large acrylic on canvas piece depicting a matchbook adorned with Coca-Cola advertising, is placed above a 1960’s Coca-Cola dispenser; both equally bold designs and beautiful works of art. Pop Art might say something about consumerism and capitalism but to me it simply looks bright, vibrant, fun and reflects a world I can relate to. That’ll do.  

Yet what caught the eye, time and time again, was the work of Alexander Girard, a name I wasn’t aware of. Each time Mrs Monkey and I spotted something interesting and “new” it inevitably had his name on the caption. Magazine covers, lettering on cushions, curtain fabrics, household items, even a whole restaurant, there was the Girard name. As an architect, interior designer and furniture designer “Sandro” was commissioned in 1960 to design every part of La Fonda Del Sol Restaurant in New York, from the kitchen to the servery counter to the tables to the crockery to the menus and to packets of sugar. It looked an incredible place with his cheerful collection of 80 different sun motifs as an ever changing logo. And no, of course it’s not still there, I’ve checked. Not the real one anyway.

Well worth a mooch around with plenty of inspiration to be found among over 200 pieces by 70 artists. The walls of Monkey Mansions have looked starkly white and colourless ever since.

Pop Art Design is at the Barbican Centre, London until 9 February 2014, admission £12. 

For more on La Fonda Del Sol see Burning Settlers Cabin blog.

JACK KEROUAC'S ON THE ROAD: THE ILLUSTRATED SCROLL by PAUL ROGERS

These wonderful drawings form part of an on-going project by illustrator Paul Rogers to record an image from every page of On The Road.

They capture not only America in the late 40s and early 50s but the mood of Jack’s writing; swinging from excited optimism to gloomy melancholy at the turn of a street corner.  

Rogers is approximately a third of the way through so hopefully publishers have knocked on his door already. If not, they need to.

For more images see Paul Rogers at Drawger and for a short interview see The Huffington Post. 

Thanks for Robin at Include Me Out for the tip-off.