The Late Shows 2014

I have now had a few weeks to calm down about The Late Shows 2014. My Twitter feed (@MuseumWalkerIan) was pretty busy over the course of the two nights, but this blog affords me the chance to say a little more than 140 characters at a time! So let’s start at the very beginning because, after all, it’s a very good place to start.

After downing tools on Friday evening, I walked from the Haymarket through to Shieldfield. The Biscuit Tin Studios were not a listed venue this year, so I kicked off my own personal experience of the year’s event at Holy Biscuit. Even before entering the converted church building, there were drop in activities upon its front lawn in the form of two sets of four chalkboards, all hinged together to form columns which ask visitors to chalk up an item on their bucket lists. Can’t conjure up that image? Well, a picture is worth a thousand words:

   
Inside the building itself, the art exhibitions were based around alternative representations of Newcastle, through photography, comic book imagery, montages and even a faux board game based around surviving the city’s nightlife. It was all very inventive, and the paper gift-bag with promotional flyers and other assorted goodies proved useful as I collected further bumph throughout the evening. It was also where I picked up my first glowstick of the evening! I try not to hoard them, given their popularity, but I always manage to end up with 2 or 3, pretty much by simply not paying attention to what I’m doing!

I couldn’t visit Holy Biscuit without stopping by The Biscuit Factory along the way. If I were a rich man (durdle-durdle-durdle etc), then I would certainly furnish whatever lavish Geordie residence I subsequently bought with at least something from the Factory, as I always see something that I like on display. I also withheld some glee at the descent into the lower quarters were the artist studios were, not least because of the potential for free wine. A single glass of rosé later – I had to pace my evening after all – and I had circled the various workshops, ranging from a pungent oil painting room to a photography project which I somehow didn’t realise was going on. I learned later from a friend’s Facebook that it was. D’oh.

Over the railway bridge, I noticed from my Late Shows brochure that there was a new venue to visit before passing The Tanner’s Arms and heading down the Stepney Bank - St Dominic’s Priory. As I’m not a Catholic, I haven’t had a reason to visit St Dominic’s before, but the Late Shows gave me that reason. In I walked, greeted by both the sound of soft organ music and two sets of volunteers. As well as the expected volunteers wearing Late Shows-branded black t-shirts, there were also members of the congregation on hand to go over the programme for the evening’s events. So I had a sit down and enjoyed the ambience for a few minutes before scoping out a local school’s art exhibition, which was displayed down one side of the church. I was also approached by the priest who sounded delighted that their bid to be a Late Shows venue had been accepted and this was subsequently the first time St Dominic’s had participated in the event. This left me thinking about how, and why, there were subtle differences in the venue line-up year upon year, which had genuinely never crossed my mind before.

This would be reinforced as I started down Stepney Bank: Roots & Wings were missing. Oh, they hadn’t done the Enchanted Door routine since 2011, but the group had always had a presence within the Ouseburn for the two subsequent years. At least this year there was sign explaining that their premises were being refurbished, keeping visitors in the loop. Metaphorically shrugging, I continued down into valley and headed towards Northern Print. And as I turned a corner and headed towards the door, I found myself looking at a familiar face from my days at The (Renaissance North East Museums) Hub.

Anita had opposite me for the majority of my time at The Hub Learning Team’s office within Segedunum (#45 in my Index). She had also been massively pregnant, and her maternity leave coincided with the end of my fixed term contract there. I had seen her and baby son since then when going back to visit the team, but as the team started to drop in numbers, and my visits came to an end, Friday evening must have been the first time I had seen Anita in about 3 years. And I had to do a double-take when I spotted her, for the sole reason that she was now in a wheelchair. But we had a very upbeat conversation, catching up upon what the other was doing. I recommended St Dominic’s before wishing her and her companion (whose name escapes me – that’s the pitfall of leaving this write up a few weeks, I guess) all the best, and turning back to the printworks.

This year provided me a genuinely new experience: visiting Northern Print when it wasn’t rammed with visitors. I remarked as much to the Late Shows volunteers there, before considering it fortunate timing and proceeding through the building without a queue ahead of me. Initially, I had gone in knowing what to expect; after all, how do you change up what can be exhibited within a workshop filled with large printing machines? The answer came from the volunteer at the bottom of the stairs, who noted that the disabled toilet had been converted into The Cistern Chapel by the satirical artists Modern Toss, featuring a series of comedic prints utilising obscene language. Particularly funny was “The Periodic Table of Swearing”, which I believe can be bought from their website. And it’s my birthday next week....

A hearty chuckle later, I descended into the Ouseburn proper, where I soon caught sight of The Time Bandits; again, regaling the patrons of both The Cluny and The Ship Inn with their Jack the Ripper show. Sidestepping them, I moved towards Ouseburn Farm, whose catering sorted me out for my evening’s sustenance. I just hope the burgers weren’t produced on-site.

Passing through the denizens sitting outside The Cluny, I then turned into 36 Lime Street Studios and explored its many floors for art, again enjoying my climb to Jim Edwards’ studio at the very top of the building. Next door at Seven Stories (#144), after briefly being confused by two volunteers addressing me at once, leading to a moment of weirdness between all three parties, I quickly headed to the stairs and descended to the Creation Station on the bottom floor. Here, I saw children being guided through colouring activities by staff dressed up as literary characters. This would be the theme throughout the seven floors, as literary characters milled about the frankly stunning exhibitions this year: Moving Stories: Children's Books from Page to Screen in particular stretched across two storeys. The uniqueness of the venue also allowed for the Artist’s Attic to put on shows for its audience, as can be seen here:

Once I had had my fill of children’s literature, I headed south down Lime Street towards the Tyne. There were two further venues I would not be able to experience as I passed. The first was Ouse Street Art Club, whose mobile of alcohol, videogames and table tennis was nowhere to be seen. The other was Victoria Tunnel, the famed tunnel that leads from the Ouseburn to deep beneath the Great North Museum: Hancock in the Haymarket. Obviously, that hadn’t gone anywhere, but the Tunnel operates on a tour basis and visitors who want to experience it have to book in advance. I never do and therefore have never got to experience it. And tunnels do count in my Index, as evidenced by my trip to The Tar Tunnel (#155) in Ironbridge Gorge. At the end of Lime Street, I came to a dilemma: I can never remember the best way to get to The Toffee Factory from that spot. Usually because the upper floors that are adjacent to the road bridge over the Ouseburn canal are usually blocked off by security. This year I decided to get there by walking by the canal path....only to find it fenced off for further construction work. Another year of dashed experimentation!

Eventually getting there by circling the Tyne Bar, The Toffee Factory had a swing theme with costumes, cocktails and...dance lessons. A mixture of fun and awkwardness, I formed part of the crowd and drank in the atmosphere rather than the cocktails. Whilst there, I saw Lauren, who had previously co-ordinated volunteers back when I had been one in 2011, so we briefly compared notes for the evening before I let her get back to her friends, who had no idea who I was! I have yet to reach the height of fame where people point at me in the street and shout “Hey, it’s that guy! That guy who sometimes goes to museums and writes about them even less!”

Getting to the River Tyne itself, I noticed that, discounting Victoria Tunnel, I had hit pretty much every Ouseburn venue, save for three places. Three places I had never been to before, for that matter. With that in mind, and it being 9:30pm, I decided I would seek to correct that. Now, the unlucky part of this mystery trinity which did not receive my patronage was Wychcraft Furniture, as a) the brochure did not make it sound very engaging, and b) it was further up the valley and would mean re-tracing my steps. So I proceeded the short distance along the Tyneand made my first ever visit to The Cycle Hub. I could speak about its engaging design competition (posters for the Tour de France stages in Yorkshire which visitors were encouraged to vote on), or the uniqueness of the venue itself. But moreover, it provides some stunning views of the Tyne:

 

The remaining venue, which was providing quite the Twitter buzz, was the Mushroom Works, another artist studio. The only downside was its location, which is not so much a glib dismissal of Byker (which I’m sure has its charms [now, that’s a glib dismissal!]) as a comment on being a 5-10 minute walk away along the river. Most people were sensible and made use of the free shuttle bus. I was not so sensible and opted to make that journey on shanks’ mare instead. Upon reaching Mushroom Works, I had a look around and liked what I saw, with the fairy theme proving very popular. There was the option of a drink for the road, but as I would be walking home to Heaton, I opted to forgo it and begin my trek home.

After an exceedingly good night’s sleep (all that walking paying off, not least those stairs at 36 Lime Street), I had a leisurely Saturday by all accounts. It was only around 4pm I noticed a line on the front of the brochure. Whilst Newcastle and the Ouseburn would be opening their doors at 7pm as per usual, Gateshead would be getting the jump on them by opening up at 6pm. Not only that, they’d also be offering special orange glowsticks! That appealed to me more than it should do a sane man and I immediately started preparing my dinner. I had resolved to walk the event again and it would take me 45 minutes to get from my house to the BALTIC. Moreover, it was a great excuse for me to start the evening in Gateshead as I had continually overlooked it over the past few years for reasons of proximity. Indeed, I doubt I will ever take in the Shipley Art Gallery for future Late Shows, given how far away it is. Unless I take a bus, I guess. Anyway, Saturday.....

The BALTIC has become one of the iconic images of the Quayside, and I do like to stop in whenever I find myself down by the Tyne, even though I can’t technically add it to the journals. After collecting my orange glowstick, I took the lift up to the highest exhibition floor and worked my way down, after a cursory glance from the viewing platform. The main floors were playing host to the work of New York artist Lorna Simpson, which closes on 22 June. The exhibition mixed photography, drawing and videos, which ranged from gold-clad dancers to mirror image chess and a man being looped whilst whistling, so it’s fair to say that it was diverse. There were other exhibitions as well, such as the Near Here contemporary sculpture display from Swedish artist Nina Canell, but they didn’t resonate with me quite as much. So once I had had my fill, I moved on and up the bank to the BALTIC’s equally photogenic neighbour The Sage. It was too early in the evening for the featured entertainment to have started, so instead of watching jazz ensemble ‘Dropping Bombs’ perform requested tracks, I watched their sound check instead whilst planning the rest of my route around Gateshead. And that didn’t sound bad!

 

St Mary’s Heritage Centre was a genuine shock, on the basis that I had never heard of it before. This could easily have been in Journal #2 (“The Sunny Book”) if I had come across it before, but every time I have walked past it en route to the Sage, I must have thought I was simply walking past a very well-placed church! Based within a church building, large spaces had been set aside for the drop-in visitor activities, which had a Hollywood movie feel. For fans of Ghost, there was a potter’s wheel in the upper area near the main entrance, whilst the central space had a number of visitors cutting up magazines in the name of arts & crafts. I had one eye on the standing display boards and how they chronicled the history of Gateshead, but I quickly reminded myself that this would have to be added to the journals at a later date. Yet again, The Late Shows had unearthed another cultural hidden gem. Or at the very least, spelt out that the wood I couldn’t see for the trees did actually exist.

That would turn out to be the high point of my time in Gateshead. After somehow negotiating the major roads of Gateshead to get to the edges of the town, the nearest attraction were shows being put on by the Lawnmowers Theatre Company. Unfortunately these shows were  starting on the hour every hour and I had arrived at 7:30pm. Cursing my timing, I headed next door to the Old Town Hall. This was also show-based, not least with the Time Bandits prowling about, but I had managed to miss these as well! I had the option of going downstairs and looking into the studios of the East Street Arts collective, but everyone else had had the same idea in the lull between shows. I had a rough schedule to stick to, so I exited and headed for the Railway Bridge to get back into Newcastle. There are more famous bridges over the Tyne, but a) the Railway Bridge was more direct for the route I was taking, and b) has the unusual custom of couples leaving personalised padlocks along certain railings as a symbol of their relationships.

Stepping off the bridge, I was now back opposite The Castle Keep (#104), which was clearly quite popular given the lines of people waiting to get into the building stopping only to let a separate line of people to come out of the keep. No Time Bandits here – in the Great Hall was a musical quartet with two ladies in their autumnal years singing “California Dreaming” in full acapella. I didn’t linger. Excitingly, the keep’s neighbour - The Black Gate - which opens to the public later this year, was using The Late Shows as a preview event. Like the Lawnmowers Theatre Company, visitors were being let in on the hour, and as luck would have it, it was now 8pm. However, the First Come, First Served rule would be my undoing here and the queue for the tour was pretty substantial. Still, patience is a virtue and I need only wait a month or two more before I can assess The Black Gate for myself in my own time. And that’s pretty exciting!

Continuing on my route, I headed for Westgate Road, as that would eventually lead me up to Discovery Museum, via a few other notable sites. As it happened, the Literary & Philosophical Society was not a Late Shows venue this year, but its neighbour The Mining Institute did not disappoint. Not only was it opening up more rooms than ever before, it was also playing host to local circus outreach troupe “Let’s Circus”. In that my evening had been somewhat whistlestop so far, I allowed myself a fair chunk of time enjoying the surreal nature of watching performers make use of such a venue to perform their revue acts. The majestic main hall was used for aerial rope dancing (see below), whilst the grand lecture theatre was used for the one-woman act “The Good Wife”, whilst the framed images of former Institute dignitaries had been modestly vandalised with clown stickers!

Onwards, I headed west and stopped into Newcastle Arts Centre. As well as having a look around its main gallery space, I headed up to the mezzanine. Sophie Foster, the artist whose NEST project had been on display at Ouseburn Farm the previous year, was delivering drop-in activity sessions involving “tangrams” – Google it. Opting not to cut out shapes and play with glue alongside children, for self-esteem reasons, I instead played about with the larger pre-cut shapes on a separate table and took a picture for posterity.

After a chat with Sophie, having not met her before, I pressed on towards Discovery. But before I entered TWAM Central, I stopped by the Globe Gallery. Here, the main exhibition I saw was based upon artist Ken Byers and his impressions of the Swan Hunter’s cranes, which were previously dotted alongside the Tyne at Wallsend. Said impressions were not just charcoal renderings hung on the wall, but the gallery’s basement featured a motion-sensor projection which looked at the crane based artwork.

Hopping across to Discovery Museum (#98), I saw Anita once more, stationed beside the main desk near the entrance. After sharing a laugh at the bus-like nature of our recent reunions (twice in two days after no contact for years), I made my way up to the Great Hall to scope out the theme of this years display. Once again, much like my first experience of The Late Shows in 2010, it was giant game-based, although this year’s iteration had inflatable based cages and games, not unlike something they’d use on CBBC shows of my era, such as 50:50 or Get Your Own Back. Moreover, I saw someone who I very much associated with Giant Games – my former colleague Claudia, who had been the Family Learning Officer at the Hub. My favourite memory of Claudia was that she had made sure that everyone who came into the Hub, for however long they were associated with the team, attempted to learn how to juggle! As I had done with Anita the previous night, I swapped notes with Claudia and found out what she had been up to, before talking about how my museum project was going; the Hub were responsible for me seeing a good few museums and heritage sites for the 14 weeks I was with them.

Before leaving, I made sure I headed to A Soldier’s Life and took this picture for my friend Dan (the story as to why was in my previous blog post):

 

As I left Discovery, the clock was striking 10pm.  Unless you heading to World Headquarters to party well into the night, the cultural venues would finally be shutting their doors at 11pm. In that I had walked from Heaton to the Gallowgate via Gateshead, clubbing was not even a consideration. I simply wanted to finish up at GNM Hancock before the night was over. So, earbuds in, I started making my way up to the Haymarket. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a tad self-conscious as I walked up Percy St, as I was taking a shortcut past a number of well-patronised boozers, whose punters were unlikely to have seen many people walk past wearing a glowstick around their neck. Moreover, I was feeling quite tired. I had not indulged in any drinks over the course of the evening, and whilst alcohol would have hardly helped my energy levels, I hadn’t even indulged in a cup of tea either.

So it was not the Museum Formerly Known as the Hancock that I made a beeline too. Instead, I stopped by its sister site GNM: Hatton, as I had been tipped off on Twitter about its free juice bar. The museum was somewhat quiet in terms of numbers given the time of night, but there was a party atmosphere near the juice bar, as music was playing through a large speaker set. After casting my eye over the many plastic juice cartons, I picked up the Raspberry flavoured drink, jabbed the pointed straw through the plastic lid and drank in those sweet, sweet e-numbers! After a sit-down within the adjacent gallery, I had a brief wander and found a learning officer sat amongst now empty activity tables. I declined her offer to have a go at whatever it happened to be – at that moment, I just wanted to get over the finish line. And have another Raspberry juice. Armed with a second carton, I found myself particularly engaged with the photography exhibition based around Marilyn Monroe. Yes, she was a very photogenic woman, but I found the labels and panels to be just as interesting as they told stories about particular aspects about her life.

With half an hour left, I made it to GNM: Hancock (#102), arriving just after TWAM head honcho Iain Watson had entered. The newly  refurbished museum had opened its doors just prior to me starting my MA course, so I was no stranger to the museum. In fact, if the mood takes me, I sometimes toddle across there on my lunch break as I work just over the road from there. But the one thing I was determined to see was the touring V&A Museum of Childhood exhibition Magic Worlds, which is on until 22 June. The temporary exhibition space was transformed into a variety of linked spaces, taking in various thematic elements of children’s stories, be it in literature or on screen. Case in point, a personal highlight was seeing video footage of Sooty & Sweep, even if it was with the current bloke rather than Matthew Corbett.

Once I had encountered the Magic World, I took a stage exit left and vamoosed, making one final walk back to Heaton. As I walked home, I counted the number of places I had stopped by over the two nights: 21. Out of 50 venues, I’d managed 10 in the Ouseburn and another 11 that night. Could I have seen more? Theoretically, it must be possible, but the trade-off would be that by experiencing everything, you would simultaneously have no time to really experience anything when there. I spent a lot of time in the Mining Institute and probably spent more time than most at Newcastle Arts Centre through taking part in an activity, but I’m so glad that I did take the time, after having breezed through Gateshead as quickly as I had.

In fact, Gateshead was probably the only down note of the weekend. The concept of starting earlier and having unique glowsticks was a great selling point for me, but The Sage didn’t seem ready for an early event and the fact that the attractions at the two central Gateshead venues were not drop-in in nature, relied on good timing on the visitors’ part. If I were to put my finger on what I think is the central appeal of The Late Shows, it’s the accessibility aspect of the event. The idea that someone can just walk into a place they wouldn’t normally visit, at an hour which they wouldn’t normally visit said place, and get caught up in what’s going on. I understand why certain events need to be staggered – shows need time to build an audience, tours need to account for the number of people involved, and so on – but I think the best attractions are those that cater to the visitor at their own pace.

I think I’ve typed all I can possibly type about The Late Shows at this point! It’s an event I’m very passionate about supporting and I think it’s a credit to the organisers, the participating venues and, most of all, those who volunteer their time to make it such a success. Moreover, it’s a great showcase of Tyneside at its best, which you can’t always say about Newcastle on Friday and Saturday nights, especially around the Bigg Market. So if you have never been to Newcastle before, or for a long time, and would like to see its cultural side at its best, I’d recommend you pencil in a weekend in May 2015! Barring a massive shift in the status quo, I know that’s where I’ll be!