I love this new hyper-glam portrait of my permanent fiancee Molly Parkin, due to be unveiled at La Galleria, 30 Royal Opera Arcade, Pall Mall, London SW1Y 4UY on 26 April, 2011.
It's the work of artist Trademark aka Mark Wardel. His other celebrity subjects include Kylie Minogue (who commissioned a series of portraits for her Showgirl Homecoming Tour), Divine, Grace Jones, David Bowie and Boy George (who describes Trademark as a modern-day Warhol).
And Kanye West and Naomi Campbell are among star collectors of his artwork.
Of the Moll unveiling, Trademark tells me: 'The event is being filmed as part of the BBC4 profile which has followed the process of myself painting this portrait of your fiancee.'
I would affectionately title her Nefertiti-like portrait: Moll: Murder By Maquillage. The purple lips are sealed - for today she will spare you a sharp retort - while the black eye greasepaint is a promise of risky drama, lovingly applied. This face is trouble.
To view more of Trademark's work, click here. For a critique, go to this.
PS to Trademark: Think about Judge Judy. Turn this hideous virago and persecutor of the fat, blue-collared litigant into a drag queen. She is the most dangerous woman in America. She is also thin. And cruel.
Philip Levine's Tsunami. Daniel Regan's photography and Kat Sinclair's body art
Though I boast a luxuriant and stylish head of hair, shiny and bouncy with each toss, I do recognise that bald can be sexy. And this is almost entirely due do to the work of cultural entrepreneur Philip Levine whose pate is his canvas.
Do catch his debut exhibition 'Headism', featuring his best head designs, at the NL Gallery 40/42 Riding House Street, London, W1W 7E, May 3-9. Photography by Daniel Regan, documentary by Viviane Castillo and sculpture supported by Lifecast. All his designs are in collaboration with body artist Kat Sinclair. There will be a published book of these images.
Philip Levine's baldazzled head, boldly going. Daniel Regan's photography and Kat Sinclair's body art
More details on his site (link above) and on Facebook. Philip will be an exhibit during the Friday Late evening at the V&A on 25th March 2011. There will also be an estimated 10 posters of his head images displayed on the London underground from 11th April 2011 in a build up to the gallery show.
He first caught Madame Arcati's attention in 2009 when I laboured a pun on giving head and his work to caricature my apparent obsession with cock. Nothing could be further from the truth.
I shall know Philip Levine's genius has touched cultural base when yet another useless cock-cunting British PM enters No 10 baldazzled.
I had vowed not to give further promotion to performance artist Mark McGowan's videos after his ghastly support for the Tories* at the last election. Fancy being a nihilist notice-moi-ist (moist?) who thinks Old Etonians can run a modern multi-cultural democracy (as if!): even our benign anarchists nowadays are no better than Julian - Downton Abbey - Fellowes or Louis - 'Wag-ner' - Walsh.
But Mark's latest movie, 'We are being controlled by the internet' (click here) has at least wit. We see the silly poppet prone on his bed mucking about on the internet and offering us a series of Alf Garnett-y reaction shots to the online bedlam. Obama's a jackass, lizard-hating David Icke's admirable (such is the level of satire)... and we are warned: beware people with short arms. I am most disappointed that he does not mention Madame Arcati, though I do not have short arms. He should at least have mentioned Daniel Radcliffe's cock or Sheila Vogel-Coupe's 81-year-old snatch as part of the Arcati online mental stew. I mean, who cares if Britney Spears is short?
How very remiss. How very Old Etonian of him.
*Mark now claims in comments that he did not support the Tories. Likewise, may be this posting is satire in kind.
The photographs of Francis Bacon's whipping boy, Dan Farson, can ve viewed and bought at Blacks Club at London's 67 Dean Street, W1, until March 12th. Don't miss the Private View on Feb 23, 6.30-8.30pm: at 7.15pm., there will be a brief talk by the artist, writer and Soho DJ (and my fiancée) Molly Parkin, and Soho based bespoke tailor Mark Powell (both pictured below by Benjamin Maggs, a Pisces), who is currently working on an outfit for the modfather himself, Paul Weller. They will talk about their Soho experiences past and present, and their memories of Dan Farson.
The flyer reads: "Through the lens of Dan Farson, Soho scenes and its bohemian habitués of the 1950's come to life. Several of the photographs are featured in the remarkable book by Farson Soho in the Fifties, with an introduction by jazz legend and author the late George Melly."
Apparently Farson was also a gifted writer and broadcaster. The first I heard of him was from the late Robert Tewdwr Moss who met him in a Syrian hotel in the mid-90s. Robert describes the encounters in his travel book Cleopatra's Wedding Present. From memory, Farson - drunken and shambolic by this time - took against him, launching into ferocious, froth-flecked tirades. Robert's crimes appeared to be that he was handsome, gay and sexually active. I can't recall if Robert actually names Farson in the book.
As I write I can't find my copy to check. Perhaps Farson's ghost has hidden it.
I just love Philip Levine's head designs. Artworked bonces are so sexy, so clean. I commend to A-listers, the intelligent and cancer patients. For more on Philip's extraordinary work, see his new website. "Philip started using his head as a canvas for creativity back in 2006 when he began to go bald...."
NoticeMe-meister Mark McGowan has sent me his latest video - his burning of the effigy of Gordon Brown. Why Gord? Why not David Cameron or that boring polyglot amoeba Nick Clegg or that fat BNP cunt Nick Griffin? McGowan's gone off a bit lately: he really screwed up on Jade and now he's worn the wrong party frock on Gord: Gord's got four planets in Pisces, OK?, so he can't help but be secretive, cryptic, sneaky, dour, grim, insincere, dark: astrologically he belongs to the shadows. Leave the man alone! He is precisely the leader we need for these tiresome times. He'll look the part in the history news footage. Ghastly! It's fate's synchronicity! Ask Sting.
But Mark has accidentally discovered a star - Bryn. He plays the piano and sings a song from 2:30 on (just skip through the Gordy idiot fire bit). I love this man. Wonderful voice, the piano is filthy sexy: his mack is disgusting: his hands are grubby: oh God, some people need a lick-wash, doncha think? D'ya think Bryn would like a Madame Arcati Lick-Wash? What's the song? - one line is "They're gonna take the baby into care" and another is "she's a disposable girl" and "she'll become a femme fatale". Name that tune, cunties.
How does an old bitch such as my good self do it? One minute at Andrew Logan's Alternative Miss World in London, next in Australia for the Veuve Clicquot party thrown by Australian designers Heidi Middleton & Sarah-Jane Clarle of fashion label sass & bide. (More info on the company, click here)
In aid of Barnados, it was held at a deserted warehouse in Alexandria to show off their Shine collection of exhibits, with good friends of the order of Mischa Barton, Barry Humphries, Emma Hawkins (featured in March's British Vogue) portrait photographer Rankin and models Kate Moss & Daisy Lowe and band Sneaky Sound System interpreting what the word Shine meant to them.
The 10 Shine exhibits in the collection are to be auctioned off later this year in London with proceeds going to Barnardos Homes to make a difference to 10 children's lives through "the Shine Collective project".
sass & bide's Heidi Middleton & Sarah-Jane Clarke
Barry Humphries painting
Kate Moss's shine star
Twiggy and her collection of shoes
Angus McDonald & Daimon Downey from Sneaky Sound System
“Is that a vagina?” Ruby Wax demanded to know as co-host of Andrew Logan's Alternative Miss World 2009. Three large sails had made a grand entrance on the stage - a vagina was not the first thing they reminded me of, unless you‘re talking about an acute case of thrush. On a similar theme she added later of more imagined stylised pudenda: “There’s a strong smell of fish in the air.”
Yes, so moving on …
The 12th in the series since 1972, this Crufts-inspired AMW was once again the post-Warholian dry debauch of androgynous excess. The venue this time was The Roundhouse in London’s Camden and the theme The Elements - happily, only very loosely taken as inspiration.
Miss Flotsam told how she hates tidy beaches, and Miss No Signs Of Any Civilisation Whatsoever complained of traces of rust on her underbelly. I liked Miss Trailer Trasher’s boast that she has enough residual energy to become extremely unpleasant while Miss Bubbles Of Hope was composed of 78% air, 17% alcohol and 5% grape resin. Miss Majordha Beach's helium-inflated balloons, representing clouds, broke away and collected on a roof trap high up: I wondered who pops them in the morning. When Miss Sahhara gave birth to Africa I prayed Madonna wouldn't materialise and adopt it.
I can’t remember who won now but if it was the Miss who was hoisted aloft out of a tank-size puffball skirt then I concur - was that Miss Hokusai? Please write in.
Actually, the winner was Miss Fancy Chance
Andrew appeared as principal and exemplary host and hostess in a male/female harlequin-style get-up: to Ruby he probably looked like a badly bruised vagina with labial piercings and mirror adornments. Not for me to reason why.
My fiancee Molly Parkin was one of the judges and she took me as her VIP guest. We’d rendezvoused at the Chelsea Arts Club first - she was dressed as a thunderstorm in black and sparkling red. But since flashlight is white we recast her as a volcanic eruption with lava flows. I wore a dark velvet suit - a cloud seeking a silver lining. Molly Parkin and Bruce Lacey (photo by Frances Lynn, see below)
In the Roundhouse’s VIP gallery other judges and their friends and/or fuckees joined us: Julian Clary - he asked me how he could find Madame Arcati on the internet: his delightful friend wore a pink balloon; Ken Russell, who sported a one-piece tent, his fifth or sixth wife and feet bandages; Time Out boss Tony Elliott - I told him I approved of his acting editor Mark Frith and he said “He’s good, I hope he stays”; the wonderful eccentric and performance artist Bruce Lacey - in one minute he twice fell off a pouffe, yet danced later; Zandra Rhodes; Tim Currey (great new teeth), oh, and so many others. Btw, Molly got the biggest aud cheer during the introductions.
One guest told me how she'd been Miss Conception in '81 - "and we had these props to represent artificial insemination". Now her daughter was about to open the show singing La Vie En Rose - "Andrew told me to wear a little black dress so people might think, 'Am I at the right show?'" Another guest told me: "I came second to Ursula Andress once in a beauty pageant ... "
The striking thing about the judging panel, in contrast to the huge youthy throng below with their muscle and tatts, was their age: both Bruce and Ken are over 80, many of the others in their 60s and 70s. Even Julian is close to 50 though looks closer to 30. This I like. All these Yodas presiding over the stripling Anakins for mischief and mayhem. Pass the lightsabre, darling.
From the gallery I peered down on the Misses preparing their costumes backstage: a multicoloured prosthetic body parts tip, lit by dressing room mirror lamps, with young lithe bodies seeking drag heaven. The show was tremendous fun. I can’t imagine why it’s not on ITV1 - it’s a telegenic spectacle, funny, and it doesn’t have Simon Cowell pulling panto faces. What more do you want? No wonder Michael Grade’s on his way out.
“He’s being strangled by a penis,” shouted Ruby as a monster tower-costume collapsed on stage. For once she was right. She may not know her cunt but she can certainly spot a cock.
My new friend the author Frances Lynn has some good pics of the judges and guests, click here. She's also written this enlightening piece on Madame Arcati here. Yet more amazing photos at frillip moolog, here. Ken Russell writes about the show inThe Times.
Incidentally, I was much taken by The Irrepressibles, a 10-piece orchestra - fronted by the "angel-throated, androgynous, Jamie McDermott"- that was part of the entertainment
Molly Parkin's taking me to the drag pageant Alternative Miss World on Saturday, May 2, at the Roundhouse in Camden, as her VIP partner, natch. "The event that brought Leigh Bowery to London, that intrigued artists from Brian Eno to David Hockney, that has attracted fashionistas from Zandra Rhodes to Ryan Styles - The Alternative Miss World - a beauty contest like no other – ricochets back into the limelight for its 12th outing since 1972 at London's premier venue The Roundhouse on Saturday May 2nd 2009," reads the invite.
The theme this year is the elements so I was thinking perhaps of wearing an iPod instead of a tie, screening David Attenborough's The Living Planet just below my chin. Could be useful if the conversation dries up.
Molly is one of the judges, along with the likes of "Queen of Colour Zandra Rhodes, Textile Temptress Celia Birtwell, Bruce Lacey the elemental artist, pilot and AMW veteran, Movie Maestro Ken Russell, Rocky Horror’s Creator Richard O’Brien, Hollywood Superstar Tim Curry, South Asia’s Cultural Guru Rajeev Sethi, The Doyen of Craft Today, Philip Hughes, London’s Latest Hotspot Amy Lamé, Jonny Woo the Darling of the East End, Time Out’s Tony Elliott, the Roundhouse’s Supremo Marcus Davey, Alternative Miss World of The Universe 2004 Miss Secret Sounds of Sunbird Rising CCCP, 2004’s Co-Host, the fabulous Julian Clary," et al.
Semi-naked boys, dancing girls and the biggest exhibitionist mature tarts of London will all be on display.
Tickets: £27.50 Groundlings and £50 Seated. The Roundhouse Box Office T. 0844 482 8008. For more info on the event and venue, click here. Andrew Logan reveals a little more about the show here.
And heeeere's Andrew (you may have to turn up the volume)
And don't forget you can meet Molly on Tuesday nights at the Green Carnation in London's Greek St, click here.
Mark McGowan is planning to reenact the last few hours of Jade Goody's life in what he threatens will be a two-hour performance at Cordy House, Curtain Road, Shoreditch. Tickets for the May 18 performance are £17/£25.
"I am from south London," he says, "and I loved Jade. The last months of her life were in the public eye, except the moments of her death. As an artist, this is my tribute to Jade, I always supported her, even through the Shilpa Shetty incident." Here's a preview trailer: I doubt that his singing voice would get him far on Britain's Got Talent.
As London is immersed in G20 tumult next week, with 100,000 demonstrators expected and all police leave cancelled, the artist Ben Moore will manfully vogue through the riots in his pink Star Wars-like trooper suit. Confrontation will serve as aesthetic backdrop to an artistic experience.
A spokesman tells me: "Ben wants to capture images of the pink trooper standing still amid a chaotic and violent environment - like a statue. This piece of work is about armour and uniform - the pink trooper was once white and automical. By becoming pink it has changed sides - gone from the side of the police onto the side of freedom and freedom of expression." I just hope a bodyguard of France's Dior-clad Première Dame, Carla Bruni-Sarkozy, doesn't shoot him on sight - what an unfortunate diplomatic mishap that would be.
Ironically, I understand London mayor Boris Johnson is rather fond of Ben's work as one of the artist's subjects. I shall expect to see him at the subsequent G20 Art Wars exhibition. Click here for more details of the pink trooper.
I plan to see Antony And The Johnsons' Antony Hegarty's The Creek exhibition at the London Isis Gallery: a very good interview in the Independent yesterday alerted me to his artwork and environmental concerns. His Ghost self-portrait reactivates my pediophobia (fear of dolls): it's a Gothic photographic nightmare achieved by projecting an image of his late great-grandmother on to his own face. It would make a great movie poster: all it needs is a movie to back it. I also like Julia's Hand, a photographic study of his mentor Dr Julia Yasuda, described as an intersex person, neither male nor female.
The subject of hands reminds me of Mickey Rourke and his freakishly large ones, on display in the excellent The Wrestler. His fingernails are rudimentary curved claws, white as milk. I know I would never get on with Mickey, just because of his hands.
