Plinth highlights
The new Sky Arts One and Other highlights video (NSFW) is really quite something. The whole project comes together very nicely, and it's oddly moving. I'd lost track of all the interesting things that happened, and I obviously missed a hell of a lot - curling spectactors? Definitely worth a watch. I admit I'm slightly biased as the plinthriller dancers are featured near the end, and in the BBC's shortened version - which apparently went out on BBC Breakfast - they're shown twice! Yay!
Somebody sent me a lovely thing
On the left is a photo I took last year, and on the right is a print of a watercolour painting by segismundoart. He found the original image on Flickr, asked if he could use it, then very kindly sent me a signed print. Isn't it lovely? It's going on my wall.
I'm impressed with the guy's whole photostream, but his set of dancers is particularly delightful.
Atheist Thriller on the Plinth – Part 2
It was a gorgeous afternoon - as sunny and warm as the One and Other team had seen it - and Trafalgar Square was full. This was great. Anything that wasn't rain was just fine with me, and I found myself pretty excited by all the people. Hopefully we'd get a crowd, at least. The cherry picker moved slowly towards the plinth, the security guard shooing passers-by out of the way, and I started to spot familiar faces. I was, by this point, grinning like an idiot.
I was lifted high above the plinth, and I took the opportunity to appreciate the view. It's not often you get a vantage point like that! Then the cherry picker lowered me down to meet Margaret, the charming lady representing Scotland, and we quickly swapped places. I was more exhilarated than nervous at this point, but nonetheless pleased to see a pigeon was keeping me company. Sadly it flew off as soon as I stepped out. Hopefully this wasn't a sign of things to come.
The plinth is bigger than it looks. I was carrying a lot, but there was plenty of space, and the 'There's probably no God...' sign, which had seemed way too large in the BHA offices, was obviously going to fit perfectly. There'd still be room for the amplifier and me at one end, too. I quickly set up the radio mic and amplifier, and one of the biggest worries fell away as the LEDs lit up. I then looked down, and the second worry disappeared: about 30 people had RSVP'd 'yes' on Facebook, and they seemed to all be there! I saw many friendly faces, which was very nice indeed. But there was a crowd surrounding them, and they all cheered when I announced the plan to teach the moves from Thriller. This was a real confidence boost. I set up the sign, and we were away.
The dancers were brilliant. Extremely enthusiastic, not at all self-conscious about pretending to be zombies in public, and everyone seemed to be smiling. I heard afterwards there was a lot of inter-group teaching and generally making sure everyone knew what they were doing, which is great. I had to move pretty fast to cram it all in, but everyone picked up the steps remarkably quickly, and we were able to race through the song.
It was working! And time just passed. I was enjoying myself tremendously, and relaxed completely after a few minutes. I found myself oddly comfortable in front of a large crowd - all those years of magic shows apparently paid off. We'd go through a group of steps, then repeat, then put it to music, and I was very surprised when I glanced at my phone and saw half an hour had gone by.
The technology worked, too. The amplifier, at 1/3 power, was easily loud enough to drown out the steel bands; the microphone, despite a few difficulties, carried my voice well; and the iPhone performed perfectly, with its new low-speed-scrubbing feature letting me skip to the exact second I wanted. It's nice when things work like they should.
The surrounding crowd was great - they were really into it. Every time the dancers finished dancing to music, they'd get a round of applause. And as the dance wore on, the crowd started to join in. We started off with about 15 people, and by the end there were ~30, including a group of children in union flag hats, and a particularly endearing kid in green at the front. Not everybody had seen the initial steps, but that didn't matter.
I had two hecklers (that I noticed). The first, grey-haired and very drunk, shouted for attention then rubbed his nipples at me. This was actually pretty funny, and he hung around for a while. The second was more of a grump, yelling something about god. I suggested I wasn't going to debate with him from high atop the thing, and he left. I later found out he was religious and thought the 'probably' indicated something important. I possibly got off lightly here.
The sound was fascinating, too. I was concentrating on the dance moves, and watching how the dancers were doing, but a few things broke through. Buses and cars honked, and we all waved at one. I had to do an large number of pelvic thrusts, and these would often cause a burst of laughter / screams from somewhere below. There were a few reactions like this, and you never quite knew whether it was related to you or not. It's a curious experience, being in your own little world and not quite knowing who's watching you or what they're doing.
We finished the chorus with ten minutes to go. I really wanted to finish the song, so we zoomed through the final section. This was a big ask, as it's not the easiest section, and it didn't help that I had to correct a slight mistake. But the dancers were awesome, and did incredibly well. With three minutes to go, and the cherry picker making its way across the square, I quickly went for one whole run-through. 90 seconds long, we just made it. The crowd applauded loudly, and it was a great way to finish - it would have been so disappointing not to make it all the way through!
I was pretty happy on the way down, but I didn't anticipate the reaction. The response was amazing. Tweets flooded in during the hour itself, and I've since had many lovely emails, texts and comments. These are set against a whole two negative comments, both drive-by abusive and not worth fretting over. Even the cynical #oneandother followers on Twitter1 were positive, albeit after complaining I was too slow getting started (I wasn't doing anything without my sign!). Particular kudos goes to @nickjbarlow, for "there's probably no God, but there's definitely no Michael Jackson". The One and Other staff seemed to enjoy it, too - the guy who took me up on the cherry picker hung around for the whole thing, saying we 'rocked the square', and inside the green box everyone said how much they enjoyed it, and that they hadn't seen such a large crowd before. Yay!
I was on a high for most of the week. On Thursday Sky Arts called me to say #plinthriller would be featured on their One and Other highlights show, which was pretty exciting. They needed musical permissions, so asked me for the the exact version of Thriller I'd used. They also said Kathy Lette had chosen us as her #1 plinth highlight of the week, so it was quite a disappointment when on Friday she didn't mention us at all! There was a very brief clip of the crowd during a dancing montage, but that was it -I assume they couldn't get the music rights2. Shame!
The full video is still up on the oneandother site. I'm hoping I'll be able to get a copy.
A couple of things I'll know for next time:
- Use a headset mic! The lapel mic attached to my t-shirt wasn't directional enough to pick up my voice properly, so I had to actively lift it to speak, which made some dance moves a little tricky. No big problem, although I realised afterwards that I had a headset in my bag the whole time.
- Do not name-check people, or you risk forgetting a) some of your oldest and best friends and b) your siblings. Sorry about that.
I've used up all the superlatives, but you get the picture: I'm really happy about the whole thing. I need to say a few thank yous, because it was a huge team effort. Firstly, many thanks to the two lovely friends who got me over my nerves in the middle of the week before - I may very well have done something deeply boring if it weren't for you. Also to Mr Skuds, who came into town specially, very kindly documented the whole event, and gave it a charming write-up - it was nice to see him again. The BHA were very enthusiastic, sorting out a sign and appropriate stands for me, and they and many people helped spread the word on Twitter and Facebook. Special mention in this regard must go to Ariane, who gave the whole event a massive boost. Thanks also to Ed for carrying that amplifier around London afterwards!
But mostly thank you to everyone who came along and danced. It wouldn't have worked without you. I hope it helped you enjoy your life. It certainly did me: it's not every Sunday I stand on a plinth and dance, sing, and, well, thrust. I'm glad I did.
plinthriller on Sky Arts tomorrow
Just to say #plinthriller will apparently be included on the One and Other highlights show, on Sky Arts 1 (and HD) on Friday at 7pm. They said it'll be shown if they can get the appropriate permissions for 'Thriller', so we'll see. Rather intrigued to hear what Clive Anderson thinks...
Atheist Thriller on the Plinth – Part 1
I spent last Friday and Saturday in my flat, with the blinds closed, pretending to be Michael Jackson. I had to get the Thriller routine set in my head before my Plinth date on Sunday, and although I knew it pretty well, I kept making mistakes. Just little ones, but always something different. I'd go off time, or inexplicably forget the next move, or ad-lib something I really shouldn't say in front of, you know, people.
And the people. I didn't want to think about the people. We'd put the call out on Facebook and Twitter, and almost 30 people had confirmed, with another 35 saying they might. I hadn't been shy, and pretty much everyone I knew had promised to watch, either in person or online. Some very popular atheists had mentioned me on Twitter. The British Humanist Association, as well as providing a 'There's probably no God...' original bus sign for me to display, had posted about me on their front page. What was I thinking? I like these people - what if I did something so cringeworthy no humanist would meet my eye again? What if I sullied the spectacularly cool Atheist Bus Campaign? The very worst possibility I could imagine - worse than falling into the safety net - was the dance group getting bored and disintegrating: what if I was just rubbish?
Thing was - I didn't have a choice. Having had and rejected the idea for Thriller - it was far too scary - I'd come up with something else, and promptly found myself preemptively regretting not dancing. So that was that. I wasn't going to get a chance like this again. Decision made.
So after not much sleep I was up and on the early Sunday train to London. I had with me a bag of audio kit and a 15kg amplifier that seemed suddenly forged of glass. I'd spent ages trying to find a battery-powered amp powerful enough to blast music over the Trafalgar milieu, and finally located one two hours drive away, in Surrey. I phoned, booked it, and drove down to be told it was gone - would I like the next model up? It was enormous, but did at least have wheels and a drag-handle, and seemed sturdy, so I said yes. But pulling it along the cracked Marylebone pavement was horrendous - every bump and jolt felt like it was stripping circuit boards and puncturing capacitors. What if it broke? How much did this thing cost? What would I do for an hour?
The amp and I finally made it to the BHA offices, where we met my friend Bob, picked up the bus sign, finally located an ABC t-shirt that fitted, and jumped into a fully-laden taxi, heading to Trafalgar Square and the One and Other big green box. I was, by this point, terrified.
At the Square we headed for the participants' door and were stopped by a wryly deadpan security guard, who apologised for having to frisk us, but frisk us he must. Once satisfied we weren't carrying any guns / bombs / live animals, he helped us carry all the paraphernalia inside. This kind gesture was indicative of the One and Other staff, who were wonderfully friendly. They all introduced themselves, seemed genuinely interested in what I was doing, and took me through the dos and don'ts of the event - for example, I mustn't try to get things out of the safety net. They also explained the locations of the webcams and said the web feed is on a 30 second delay - apparently swearing is ok, but slander isn't: 'dickhead' is fine, 'you dickhead' is not. Interesting.
And then I was left to my own devices for a while. Bob was very kindly keeping me company, and we borrowed the oneandother twitter feed for a bit of last-minute publicity, as well as searching to see if anyone was mentioning the #plinthriller hashtag. We'd no idea whether the idea would work at all - what if nobody turned up? Would the non-invited crowd dance?
I was then offered tea, which I don't drink, because I gave it up at Christmas to get over my caffeine addiction, and I said yes. Whether it was the caffeine or the situation, the nerves started to fade and the excitement started to rise. I may have been a little hyper. The 14:00-15:00 Bee Lady came down from the plinth (there was a hell of a buzz about her stint) and knew all about our plan. I'd been a touch hesitant in mentioning the humanist aspects in the office, just in case anyone was religious and it got awkward, but she really liked the idea. This was a nice confidence boost.
I was receiving texts galore, and one pointed out that I wouldn't be alone, music-wise. We looked out of the window and saw why - Steel bands! Everywhere! I'm still not quite sure of the reasons, but they could be heard all over the Square. The text expressed some worry that I'd be heard. I looked over at my ridiculous amplifier, and figured if it couldn't make enough noise, nothing could.
I was then interviewed for the Welcomme Trust, with friendly and surprisingly in-depth questions about where I was from, how long I'd been dancing, etc.. Apparently it'll be stored and archived for future historians, which is a curious thought. They took some photos, and I realised with a start that it was 15:50 - I walked back into the main office to find it was time to get onto the cherry picker. If this was a deliberate move, it was very clever indeed - I had no time to sit, wait, and get appallingly nervous. Moments later we rounded the corner into the Square, and we were on our way.
(part two)
Thrilled
So that was pretty much the best day ever. The weather was perfect, the equipment worked, and the crowd were brilliant. I've had some truly lovely feedback. I'll write it up properly, but the conclusion will be the same: I couldn't have asked for more. The video is online here.
Update: two quick photos, via Ed and Mr Skuds.
Dancing on the Plinth
So I finally decided on an idea for my spot on the Fourth Plinth. I'll be teaching the Thriller dance routine to anyone willing to learn, in front of an enormous 'There's probably no God...' bus sign (kindly provided by the BHA). Do feel free to come along! There's a Facebook event page here.
We've put the word out to as many London-based atheists and humanists as we can, so hopefully there'll be a decent crowd.
If you fancy watching, I'm on 16:00-17:00 this Sunday, and it'll be streamed live on oneandother.co.uk (it'll also be archived to watch later). And if you get a minute, it'd be lovely if you could 'Pledge to Watch' on the oneandother site. Hopefully we can attract the attention of The Guardian's PlinthWatch, and other plinthspotters.
Right. I'd better go practice...
Strictly 2009 will be less about dancing, more about entertainment
Strictly Come Dancing news now, and judge Arlene Phillips (66) is to be replaced with Alesha Dixon (30). It's sexism, says Mark Lawson. Which is odd, given they're replacing a woman with a woman - if anything, it's surely ageism. But the outraged coverage misses the implied radical shift in the programme's ethos: the dancing will be less important.
Until now, the Strictly format hasn't changed much: couples dance, judges judge their ability to dance, the public do whatever they like. This worked ok until last year, when the John Sergeant affair devolved into hysterical tedium. He couldn't dance, the judges told him so, and a vocal proportion of the public accused them of bullying and elitism. It all boiled down to one question: is Strictly a dance competition or an entertainment show?
Obviously, it's both. Everyone treats it differently, and the question has no objective answer. But in all situations the judges have to be there to judge the dancing, or what's the point of them? Their expertise is in dancing - if they start judging entertainment, taking into account people's age / how-hard-they're-trying / etc., they're no more informed than the general public, and so don't deserve an important vote. Whether competition or entertainment, that the judges value skill is, I think, a crucial foundation of the show.
It's important because the competitors know the judges' marks are the most important factor. All competitors need the votes of the judges and the public, but the latter are notoriously unpredictable. The judges, though, are the opposite: you get good marks by dancing well. So, the competitors learn to dance. Sure, plenty work hard on the wow factor, but the footwork comes first - without it, they'll be slated. And I like this about the show: it's the only reality TV programme I watch precisely because dancing is difficult. The competitors have to work very hard, for a long time, to achieve good results. I admire that. But replacing Arlene changes this entire interaction.
Arlene was a dancing expert, but Alesha isn't. She can't be there to judge dancing ability: she must be there to judge entertainment value. She's the public's representative on the panel, and essentially there to stick up for the John Sergeants of the next series.
But if the judges are watching for entertainment as well as dancing ability, the competitors' priorities change. Putting on a good show becomes as, if not more, important than the dancing. Yes, there'll still be three judges watching for skill, but Bruno's capricious, and Alesha plus (much of) the audience will be after something else.
Whether you think this is a good thing is up to you. Hell, for all I know the show may be better for it. But it's still a fundamental change: Strictly will be less about dancing, more about the whole performance. And when Alesha stands up for the entertaining dancers, the other three judges will appear curmudgeonly and old-fashioned: exactly how the John Sergeant fans portrayed them. That's a cheap trick, and unfair on them.
Personally, I find this less interesting. Thinking up novel ways to entertain an audience is an entirely different skill (and one that could be outsourced pretty easily). I like that competitors put in huge amounts of effort, and it would be disappointing to see people's hard work trumped by a flashy gimmick or comedy moment. I'm the polar opposite of the viewers complaining about John Sergeant.
I can actually understand the BBC's motivation. Alesha's presence should avoid a repeat of last year's shenanigans, as she'll break the judge's united 'bullying' front. Alesha is also extremely easy on the eye, which should help bring in the younger viewers1. And I can even see why Arlene should be the one to go - the head of BBC1 said:
It was not an easy decision to take. When I looked at the four people we had, Bruno is the joker, Craig is the Simon Cowell of the show and Len is the head judge. Arlene has elements of all of them, but when you look at it, Arlene was the obvious one to change.
I can buy that - if you have to lose one, you lose least if it's her. I'll let them off the ageism/sexism charges. But at the same time the BBC1 controller admits Strictly is shifting from dance-competition to overall-entertainment-show:
Strictly is not the Olympics for ballroom dancing, it's an entertainment show. Alesha has lived through it, [but] we've still got all the experts who understand the technicalities of the Argentinian tango. Strictly will feel like an event on the channel that you haven't seen before.
That's a shame. I adore Strictly, and I hope it doesn't become Britain's Got Dancing Talent. I like that it's difficult. I like that it's an unpredictable mixture of competition and entertainment, but I liked that the dancing was always the top priority. I hope the changes don't spoil it.
- I love that the head of BBC1 said "The average age of the BBC1 viewer is 52, so why would I take older women off the channel?" - I think 52-year-old men still want to see attractive young women. [↩]
Three days
Hello! I am still here. Life is rushy rushy at the moment, and full of ups and downs. I suspect I've forgotten more blog posts than I've written lately. I've been particularly busy over the last few days, and this is the first chance I've had to sit down.
Thursday
I photographed the BHA's Daniel Dennett lecture. I helped them set up the hall, then quietly flitted in and out of fire exits during the talk itself. I also got to meet the Professor and a few other intellectual icons who were hanging around, which was excellent. I had my Professional Photographer hat on for the evening - not that I am in any way a Professional Photographer; this was just the attitude I was trying to adopt - but inside I was poking my brain to make sure it was really happening. The lecture photos have yet to be processed as I literally haven't stopped since that evening, but I'll link to them when they're online. I'm also currently photographing as many humanists as possible for a uni documentary project, and I managed to get a few shots for that too. I was a happy person on Thursday night! I'm having a ball doing this kind of work, even if I can't quite believe it.
Friday
I was at university, which was normal, but had a fairly exciting public contretemps with the head of my course, which wasn't. My class was having a critical assessment, where everybody lays out their work-in-progress around the room. We then form groups, each of which is assigned a few projects to analyse and feed back on in front of the class. My group looked at one project about abandoned toys, and we noticed that of the four images, three had the toys a similar size, while the fourth was a bit larger. We mentioned this in our analysis, and it started to niggle at me. Just because there's a pattern doesn't mean it needs to be maintained, after all. Then another group made a similar comment on a project involving photos of a park - of the five images, two sets of two had some formal similarities, and the fifth 'didn't fit in'. I didn't think this was all that important - documentary images are surely more about the topic than the aesthetics - although I didn't say anything.
Then came time for feedback on my project. My 'happy humanist' pictures are mostly headshots, but two images stand out as being quite different: a couple of people posed in a happy way, and are full body shots. The group mentioned this - not as a criticism, just a comment - and when I had a chance to speak I remarked on it. The conversation is eroded through overaccess, but - with the aforementioned pattern-critiques in my head - I must have said something like 'yep, those two are different, but I don't care much about that as the concept is more important'. My teacher leapt on me: "you should care". I can't remember the details, but it degraded from there. She was clearly very bothered about my 'not caring', and in hindsight I suspect she thought it was a premise, rather than a conclusion - that I was just dismissing the criticism, rather than considering it. But at the time I was a bit lost. I questioned why it mattered that two images were different, given my overall concept, and was told it mattered because of 'consistency' and 'if I want people to take me seriously'. I did not react well to this last comment (it's a conclusion, not a reason, and not a very good conclusion). Then I, not wanting to say 'I don't care' again, must have said 'I'm not bothered about...' which went down even worse. I was being told off for the first time in years, wasn't entirely sure why, but I was bloody well not going down without a fight. It's just a shame it wasn't over something actually important. My classmates did their best to pull me out of the fire, but it was pretty awkward for a while, and it's not something I can remember happening before.
I apologised afterwards in case she'd thought I was being rude or deliberately antagonistic1, but we certainly didn't resolve anything. I think it's great she cares that I don't care, but it's a shame she couldn't see that I do! I was pretty bothered about it for a few hours, mostly because I felt I'd embarrassed myself in front of everyone. A few very nice emails from classmates have reassured me, though - I'm not sure they necessarily agree with my point (hell, I'm not sure I necessarily agree with my point) but they could see what I meant, and didn't think it warranted the attack it got. So that's good.
It's a weird event. I don't argue with people much, let alone authority figures, in public. I might ask awkward questions, but I'll back off pretty quickly if I'm not completely sure of myself. I must be getting more confident about that kind of thing.
Today
Tonight I ran the music at a dance evening. I've done it before, and that time I spent a week worrying. This time I was much more relaxed: I knew it had been fine last time, so after a few hours setting up an iTunes playlist I didn't give it much thought. The evening went ok, but I got a bit grumpy at my inability to use a microphone. I have to announce which dance the next song conforms to, and I just could not do it: no matter what I did, I couldn't make my announcements understood. I tried raising the volume, speaking across the mic, different tones of voice - everything I could think of, and I still got a steady stream of confused looks whenever I said anything. Maybe my voice just isn't suited to amplification - who knows - but this felt like a total failure at the time, and I wasn't Mr Happy Chappy McGurk at the end of the evening. I'm a bit better now, but it's still annoying. Next time I'll just buy a scrolling LED sign.
- I wasn't either - I felt like I'd made myself look silly, but I wasn't worried I'd gone too far [↩]
Thrilled
I knew this day would come. After six months' practice, here's how we surprised the others at the dancing weekend. I'm sporadically visible (more so after the first three mins) at the back, all in black:
Thanks to Nod for the (surprisingly impressive for a cameraphone) video. If you're wondering, I looked like this:
I know what you're all thinking, but I'm sure Russell Brand can take the competition.
Hello!
Hey, thanks for coming! I'm Andrew, and this is where my headthinks come to breed. They often meander around humanism and photography, but they're flighty and you can't trust them, so anything is possible.
Do feel free to email me - I get lonely:
Your hair looks swish, by the way - have you done something new?
Recent Comments
- vicky: going up this weekend having done all the welsh peaks except 4 snowdon, cant wait
on Climbing Snowdon. - vicky: what, how can u live in the 21 c and say that, probably a sexist thing
on Climbing Snowdon. - vicky: da iawn laura, cant believe what im hearing, all this fuss, anyway love the site, and i agree, normal people who swear and curse clomb mountains cos we live in the...
on Climbing Snowdon. - Andrew: Did a few quick test shots to check the light levels, then balanced the camera on the arm of a bench, set it for a 20s exposure and hoped for the best
on ISS. - lynsey: Wow, how did you take that photograph?
on ISS.
