LEEDS
issue 14 - ÂŁfree
jan - mar 2014
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M u s i c 2 0 1 3 C r i c k e t
Christmas D r u g s A r t
2 0 1 4 R e v i e w s F i l m
P o e t r y E n e r g y L i s t i n g s
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/ IAN GANT
dear santa I want a suit by Hugo Boss, Mohair with a silken gloss, A Maserati painted blue, Perhaps a Jaguar would do.
To only eat with Michelin Stars, A flunky who will park my cars, A hairstyle to impress the girls, And cufflinks made with perfect pearls.
A Rolex Oyster gold and bright, With tickets for an opening night, Underwear by Calvin Klein, Vintage Brandy, Grand Cru wine.
A Ruby ring so big it glows, An intellect that really shows, From Oxford just a first degree, A rowing blue for little me.
A Lear Jet with a private strip, To pamper me on every trip, Caviar on Melba toast, Summer on a sun drenched coast.
A daily treatment at the spa, A job as England’s pleasure tzar, A big TV from Bang and O, I’ll show the world the way to go.
A diamond clip by Faberge, To chase those winter blues away, A manly perfume from Dior, A classic grade one credit score.
But then I only need my health, When all above is based on wealth, A little kindness, gentle hope, A little love to help me cope.
A fourteen meter sailing yacht, That’s really not an awful lot, A harbour on the Dorset coast, A regal mooring fit to boast.
A quiet time, some little peace, A selfless soul that finds release Well that’s my list, now time to pause, So ‘just the last few’ Santa Clause!
Some handmade shoes and socks to match, A door the butler has to latch, A stately home and what is more, A vista on an unspoilt shore.
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IAN GANT \
new years eve
At night I stood in the winter chill in the moonshadow stark and deep, And looked at the village soft and warm safely and soundly asleep, The last year has ended its pleasure and pride and gone is the glory and pain, And the wind that chills my heart and my soul has settled its ice on my brain. For I wonder what will the new-year bring as we stride through its open gate, And what will await us and what can we do as we deal with the follies of fate, Can I alter the pattern of what went before, and walk on a far different road, Or am I imprisoned by all of my life and bearing a burdensome load. For all our concerns we must take to the path that stretches away to our end, And if it meanders then all to the good for surprises await round each bend, For what then is life if the outcome is sure and all is quite certain and set, No place for emotion and no place for love and no certain home for regret. I have had years of plenty and sat at the feast and tasted the famine as well, And what would be heaven unless I had walked through the gates of a personal hell, To have loved and have hated is both meat and drink to the dutiful children of Eve, And what is elation and what is success to the few who have not had to greave. I write and I ponder and ponder and write as the days and the decades slip by, And as I grow older I prattle and rhyme and offer each reason a lie, But I still wake in wonder and wait for the light as dreamers have done for an age, And know I’m the player of fanciful things who struts on this fabulous stage. I was born in the forties and spoke to the old who told then of different days, Some of them hard crushed by poverties claw buts some of them times to amaze, They told of the life when Victoria reigned in an empire where suns never set, They told of the battles they told of the might but never once spoke of regret. But we now must struggle to find a new place in a world that is shrunken and small, With all of our politics oh so correct and the differences too close to call, Where reasoned religion is cause to divide and kith and kin bicker and fret, And it’s better to hide from realities wrath and a man’s bitter strivings forget. But the gates yawning open, the path is so wide with a prospect to beckon me on, And knowing of nothing I feel I must go where my fathers before me have gone, Both the curse and the bounty of every new-year are willing me know of their charm, And the bells that are tolling out time that is past are ringing in joy not alarm. So I walk on in wonder with hope at my side like a pilgrim whose goals are in sight, And with this companion in whom I must trust I must seek out the truth and the right, Whatever awaits me I know at the last that something of me will transcend, And what better epitaph can a man leave than he understood hope as a friend. And should there be tears let them fall like the rain that ends is the sunniest day, Let me be a potter that fashions new life from the basest and bitterest clay, For if I take nothing from what I have learned but a truth that to love is sublime, Then that will be everything, all that I need, from this year to the ending of time.
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TLD: For anyone who somehow doesn’t know, how would you describe the story of your life in one interview-friendly answer? HM: I was brought up by a very loving chapel going family in a small Welsh mining village. I was lucky enough to get into Oxford to read nuclear physics for a first degree and do postgraduate studies in history and philosophy of science. While an undergraduate, I tried cannabis and loved it. In my attempt to acquire more and more cannabis, I became a small dealer and over a period of years became a big dealer. Smugglers need big dealers, so I met some smugglers and became attracted to that profession. Eventually I became so obsessed with the trade, I forsook the halls of academia and became a full-time smuggler. Despite some close shaves, I was successful for several years, but ultimately the United States Drug Enforcement arrested me, and a US Federal court in Miami convicted me of racketeering and sentenced me to twenty-five years imprisonment. I was released on parole after serving seven years. I felt extremely lucky. After release, I wrote an autobiography, which became a bestseller in several languages. I still write, as well as perform one-man spoken word shows, and I persist in campaigning for the legalisation of cannabis. TLD: You of course wrote this in more detail in your biography Mr Nice. How did the book come about and what made you want to tell all? HM: The answer to both parts of this question is a significant financial incentive offered by the publishers. I didn’t actually “tell
all”: I had to leave a lot out to protect the guilty. TLD: What did you think of the film adaptation and how much input did you have? HM: I enjoyed the film very much indeed and thought the main actors and director were brilliant. I had no creative input whatsoever. I would occasionally be asked questions such as what lullaby I would sing to my baby son at night, but that was it. TLD: You became a cult hero and a spokesman for marijuana. Was the public reaction something you welcomed and is it generally all positive? HM: I was sincerely surprised by how prevalent marijuana consumption had become. Most of the public I come across at book signings and shows are, of course, mainly in agreement with me; therefore, the reaction is positive. I encountered some hostility when I stood for Parliament in the 1997 General Election, but I suppose any candidate encounters some of that. TLD: Tell us your opinion on the legalisation of drug taking. HM: Drug taking varies greatly with the particular drug and with the individual taking it. I am fairly certain that almost all people could find a drug they enjoy taking. Drug taking has become much more common over the years. It used to be a kind of privilege enjoyed middleclass academics. Now it’s used by the working class and is very widespread. There is an, albeit painfully slow, progress towards legalisation, particularly of cannabis. I have always believed
that any recreational drug would be safer to society if legalised and controlled rather that run by organised crime. TLD: How has your current tour been? HM: The tour has been well attended at almost all venues, and I still thoroughly enjoy performing. The content is primarily my articulating extracts from what I’ve written that have been modified for the stage and enhanced with audio/visual inputs. I’m always working on writing my next book, and my show continually evolves. TLD: What brought you to live in Leeds? HM: I started seeing a lady who lives and works in Leeds. Although we don’t cohabit (I’m trying to preserve this relationship), she’s the reason I came to Leeds and the reason I stay in Leeds. I’ve lived in Leeds for over ten years and, of course, have grown fond of the city and even fonder of its inhabitants. I find the Yorkshire and South Welsh characters to be very similar. TLD: What can we expect from you in 2014? HM: More writing and more talking shite, I suppose. 2014 is the centenary of the birth of Dylan Thomas, my favourite poet. Accordingly, I have been working on different treatments of some of his poems but as yet, I have no idea how well they will be received. TLD: Finally: any new year resolutions? HM: Only not to make any ever.
MARK BROWN \
alcohol as religion Legends and tales. Songs. Etiquette. Rules. Buildings specifically constructed for consumption of alcohol. Pilgrimages; Ayia Napa, Ibiza, Malia, Prague. Images and icons of alcohol are present at all major sport and music events. We even stop the entertainment to worship at half-time/intermission/ interval. Most worship every week, some worship everyday. Festivals and holidays are set aside for drinking like Christmas, New Year, Birthday, Bank Holidays. Sometimes we worship all weekend, stopping only to sleep. We worship with our friends, family and colleagues. At times through history worshippers have been oppressed by their governments. Governments employ their police forces to arrest and imprison those who act on the direction of alcohol. We trust alcohol to help us choose our sexual partners and life partners (how many partnerships have started with a pissed up first encounter at Batley’s Frontier???). We earn to be able to worship. We give more than a tithe. There are the great prophets; Jack Daniels, Arthur Guinness, Johnnie Walker. Alcohol vendors
are licenced to ensure the quality of worship. Smaller religions use alcohol in their weekly worship. Alcohol must be prepared, stored and presented within certain stringent conditions. The holy trinity of hops, yeast and barley. Many many virgins have been deflowered, much blood spilt and some farmyard animals interfered with, all in the name of alcohol. Several denominations; ale, porter, stout. Is it the oldest religion? When we’re happy we turn to alcohol to celebrate. When we’re sad we turn to alcohol to console. Some people are atheist, but they’re not to be trusted!! There are those who choose to remove themselves from society to devote their lives completely to their religion, we catch fleeting glimpses of them in parks and shop doorways. Alcohol in is medicines. Alcohol helps us create music and art. Alcohol seals business deals. Children follow in their parents footsteps and become as religiously pious as their parents. This religion pervades the whole world, from the old to the new, first world to the third world. You can pretty much arrive anywhere in the world and worship.
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/ HANNAH FAHY
The Tetley ‘Moments of decline within cities create a state of flux, they become moments of transition where the temporal condition creates the circumstances for new oppurtunities and intresting inhabitatants of space’ –Simon Baker ‘Tetley’s-from Static Narrative Escape to Accessible Collage’ Leeds is in a constant state of flux with the recent Trinity Shopping Centre and the future of Victoria Gate. The Tetley, as a contemporary art centre, therefore flourishes within this development. From a large brewery to an artistic hub The Tetley Centre for Contemporary Art and Learning provides yet another creative outlet in a fast growing city. This transformation has turned the old brewery into a place for sharing ideas and appreciating art. Opening on the 29th November and with events billed through to Spring 2014 it is easy to see how the Tetley is changing art in Leeds. It boasts cultural events from some of the leading thinkers on various topics. The space itself is interesting and each artist has worked hard to manipulate it in varied ways. The acoustics on the ‘Fear of the Surplus’ stage are outstanding and the smaller rooms work well for
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reflections on the various images of the brewery and the thought pieces beside. Futhermore, the views of the city and especially the industrial surroundings remind a visitor of the origins of the building and the city itself. It offers a great reflection to the current exhibitions on show. The art collected and shown has a relevance to social evolution of the north and Leeds. It includes old prints of Tetley advertisements, old plans of the building and photographs of the run down brewery to the development of it to an art centre. It provides a very good insight into Leeds and as a person who grew up and lives in Leeds I appreciate this encapsulation of such a massive part of Leeds history. The Tetley’s inaugural programme ‘A New Reality, Part 1’ offers insights into the development of the brewery, its history and
the future uses of the space. This opening programme boasts projects by Emma Rushton and Derek Tyman, James Clarkson, Simon Lewandowski and Sam Belinfante and Rehana Zaman. Each of these projects focuses on different issues revolving around social history and history of Leeds. Each project links to the development of the Tetley brewery in different ways. One exhibiton included in this inagural programme is Emma Rushton and Derek Tyman’s ‘Fear of the Surplus’ a catalogue of events which focus on exploring perspectives on work, labour and welfare. Most events focus on talks which take place on the hand crafted stage structure. Talks about labour and work range from Zygmunt Bauman on ‘Dread of Scarcity, Fears of Abundance’ focusing on consumerism and the condition of work to Mark Fisher’s ‘De-Privatising Stress’ with focus
on the decline in trade unions, the increase in the precariousness of work and the result of individuals internalizing stress. All the events billed, from now until Sunday 12th January are talks and workshops by leading thinkers on ideas of work and labour. Fisher for example teaches at Goldsmiths University of London, which is vocal in the fight against unpaid internships. The ‘Fear of the Surplus’ is an interesting exhibition and explores different relevant issues of work. Another interesting feature of the Tetley is the open studio residency by James Clarkson. Clarkson during this five-week residency will create work from objects found on the site during its renovation. In doing this Clarkson explores the social history of the Tetley and investing the history of art and also mass production. It questions the context of objects within art and life. The open studio residency also promotes
the notion of real artistic change within the Tetley and incorporates Tetley’s ethos as a ‘centre of contemporary art and learning’. The original purpose of the building is not forgotten and there are many interesting pieces of Tetley as a company. The original floor plans are preserved in one of the exhibitions rooms, as well as the keys to the various parts of the building displayed on a fireplace. These features tie together the various exhibitions and also offer a visitor an enjoyable and informative look at the Tetley Company. There is a bar and kitchen, which boasts ‘taste the history of Leeds’. Obviously Tetley brewery beers are sold as well as various wines, spirits, specialty teas and coffee. It is open for breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks throughout the day.
The gallery is open Mon-Wed 11am-6pm, Thursday 11am-8pm, Friday and Saturday 11am-6pm and Sun 11am-4pm. It is very easy to find, as there are signs just off Leeds Bridge. Entry is free and there are many volunteers to explain the work or help you find your way. The Tetley is providing a new face to the art scene in Leeds, it cements the city as a haven for the arts and complements the art gallery and the Henry Moore Institute as well. It is an impressive building and boasts impressive events and art pieces for the future.
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/ IAN PEPPER
red turning grey Wherever there was fire we carried gasoline. A little chaos comes in handy if you know what I mean. We’re spitting on our yesterdays whilst dreaming of the past. This revolution’s so passe cos you future hopes can’t last. Dreamers once are now grey men and hollow men at heart. They’ve woken from their slumber and forgotten how to start. There’s a smell of money burning and it’s coming from above whilst all of us down here below just jostle, fight and shove. Learning to win is really tough maybe losing is for best. There’s a security in failure, when things are put to rest. I don’t mean to be this grim or cause you no distress but freedom’s just another word for someone else’s mess. Despair is reaching for me. All answers seem a lie yet my soul is longing to break free and learn how to fly. I try to be what I am and for that I have to fight but all of us are struggling towards the same light.
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2013 FI
HYDE PARK PICTURE HOUSE
WG
endy Cook – eneral Manager
favourite the great beauty
least favourite paris manhattan
most anticipated 2014 night moves
favourite frances ha
least favourite evil dead (2013)
most anticipated 2014 the punk singer
favourite beyond the hills
least favourite to the wonder
AF
lice Miller – ront of House Coordinator
EF
mily Berckley – ront of House Coordinator
most anticipated 2014 hunger games mockingjay
LM 2014 favourite jiro dreams of sushi
GF
reg McDonald – ront of House Coordinator
least favourite concrete night
OP
llie Jenkins – icture House Administrator
favourite museum hours
least favourite after earth
most anticipated 2014 inside llewyn davis
KP
ai Rahmanian – rojectionist
n/a.... sorry.
favourite like someone in love
least favourite django unchained
most anticipated 2014 dune
/ PHILIP REGAN
Climate Change I
woke up on Thursday morning, peered through the curtains and discovered that a chunk of my garden fence was missing. This was of course, courtesy of gale force winds that battered most of Leeds the preceding night. Although the weather caused minor damage, my trivial inconveniences were undoubtedly insignificant compared to other parts of the UK. All along the British coastline, from Norfolk to North Wales, people were evacuated due to the threat of severe storms and tidal surges. These warnings proved to be more than precautionary measures as the most vulnerable homes were mercilessly swept into the sea. Elsewhere, Network Rail closed the entire Scottish rail network as falling trees and displaced trampolines had to be removed. In global terms however, we have a relatively easy time. There are countries affected by climate change far worse than our nation. The imagery can be quite striking; islands lost forever as sea levels rise, receding glaciers and the expansion of the deserts to name just a few. The Daily Express loves headlines involving so-called ‘extreme’ weather but one hopes they would run out of superlative hyperbole if ever faced with a genuine natural disaster. So is this global warming a man-made problem or is mother nature just going through her natural ebb and flow? There are arguments on both sides.
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An environmentally exploitative businessman with commercial interests might favour the latter. Money it seems, makes the world go round but at what cost? Scientists, armed with the latest data and statistics would probably favour the former option. Science by its innate nature is ever changing and evolving; could we one day regard global warming as nothing more than mass hysteria? The test of our convictions seems to be as follows. Whenever we see chaotic weather on the television in a far foreign land we feel pity for those less fortunate than ourselves and might even give money to charities or emergency disaster funds. This is a kind act but we are geographically disconnected and therefore the fear of enduring a similar trauma is swept away. The moment these things happen to us we suddenly take notice and demand answers. Immediately after the floods, Owen Paterson, the Secretary of State for the Environment praised the flood prevention measures that saved an estimated 800,000 homes. That is to be expected from the recently outed climate change sceptic. Flood prevention
measures are commendable but the barriers can only be built so high before they are devastatingly breached. Watch An Inconvenient Truth or read Herve Kempf’s How the Rich are Destroying the Earth and you begin to realise the scale of the problem activists face in creating genuine change. Me and my partner do not want children but it would be too easy for us to be dismissive and say it is no longer our problem if we are dead. We care about our families future descendants and the future of humanity in general. Action is needed on both individual and international levels. If this does not happen, attitudes may remain the same and that would be catastrophic. Do we want the global freezing of The Day After Tomorrow or the space station exodus like Elysium? Come to think of it, maybe the rich people would like that, watching the proletariat warring over ever diminishing resources. Then we’d all eventually fight back and you can guarantee that would be much worse than a broken fence.
Criminonymous \
Bad Person There are people who break into other people’s homes People who trespass on private land because they want to roam A drunken person might steal a phone and a garden gnome And then there’s couples whose love is a crime and a sin People whose political views are deemed worthy of prison People who transgress to achieve an end they were taught was legitimate What you consider deviant depends on what you see as normal What you see as bad depends on your experience of sorrow The norms we adhere to shift like the continents Our priorities change, but no one keeps on top of it We all want safety, irrespective of our stance But the people in the jails are mostly there by chance We don’t fight crime; we define crime We respond when we can, but for the majority of offences There’s no such thing as a plan That can effectively stem all the illicit demand We blame cops too for the culture in which they live Like with any gang culture, recruits may be of a certain creed But to reintegrate, our forgiveness is what they need The police are as manipulated as everyone else All mental health is suspect in and of itself People are fragile Liable to influence by their surroundings, like the hopeless in prison The futile stockpiling of our brothers and sisters And when they’re out, these erstwhile exiles No longer fit the profile of a worthwhile punt They must be imbeciles; their values must be totally different Can’t reconcile employment with debilitating criminal illness Forgetting that crimes are committed by almost all of us What if everyone was charged the first time they tried drugs? Everyone who shoplifted, downloaded a song, sped or littered? Caught or not, it’s the overwhelming majority That’s the sheer insanity of the us-and-them mentality Our primal hostility masked as higher morality Assumptions of purity are no more than an illusion We prescribe division like our laws are the words of a god And to break them is to trash our religion But if you put everyone corrupt in jail, who will be left to lock us all in? It’s a war of attrition that we’re never going to win
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The Nexus Laboratory / Emily Hallewell
T
Everyone has a story to tell, and every story can be told in a hundred different ways.
he concept is simple: give a selection of independent artists with diverse skills and backgrounds the support they need to take a blank canvas and create a unique performance within a specific timeframe. The Nexus Laboratory - AKA Nexus Lab, NLab, or NL - is the brainchild of Stephanie Upsall, Managing Director of the West Yorkshire Theatre Network (WYTN). It embodies the work of WYTN on a practical and creative level: networking, connecting, developing, promoting, supporting and skill-sharing. WYTN’s primary purpose is to connect creative people across the region. They achieve this through the use of social media and online resources but much prefer the face-to-face version: their monthly networking social events. Get people with a vested interest in the arts together in a relaxed setting, drink in hand and encourage them to get talking about, well, anything - the play they’re directing and would like a new angle on, the exhibition they would like to collaborate on, their latest piece of work or even Eastenders! A little awkward to begin with, but after a couple of rounds of speed networking 16_TheLeedsDebacle
everyone’s chatting to strangers like they’ve been friends for years. WYTN’s secondary purpose is to assist in artists’ professional development. This is achieved through workshops, masterclasses, reviewing and training. But now they are going a step further with The N Lab: an interdisciplinary arts and performance platform open to applications from anybody who is working in or has a thirsty interest in the creative industries. Wondering what an “interdisciplinary arts and performance platform” is? It’s a mouthful of a term to describe what is really a simple idea: take a group of artists from all backgrounds (painters, sketchers, photographers, musicians, dancers, sculptors, writers, actors…), give them some money and a place to rehearse, and see what magic they come up with. With mentors from across the creative industries and the WYTN network to support them through their journey, chosen applicants will have to be prepared to flex their creative muscles, share their skills and dedicate two months to the discovery and creation process.
The big thing about Nexus Lab is that each group gets a budget to spend on their project. This makes Nexus rather unique given the current climate, in which arts funding is increasingly hard to come by, especially considering that there is no criteria for application. It’s not a huge budget but it’s a pretty good starting point! West Yorkshire, and the North in general (apart from perhaps central Manchester), can often feel neglected by an arts world that sees London as the creative hub of Britain. But Yorkshire is a creative hub in its own right, with cities like Leeds acting as smaller stages for outlying communities, and it is great to see local talent getting opportunities to shine. The deadline for applications for the Nexus Laboratory is 10th January 2014. If there’s even a little part of you whispering “Go for it” then get onto the website and apply! You have nothing to lose and a great deal to gain. See you in 2014 at one of WYTN’s social evenings. www.wytn.co.uk
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1: John Grant – Pale Green Ghosts: honest, lyrical, tuneful magnificence crooned by the greatest motherfucker that you’re ever gonna meet.
2: Arctic Monkeys – AM: the most important British band of the last decade peak.
3: Hookworms – Pearl Mystic: Leeds’ finest exports of lengthy, heavy, droning, draining, gorgeous noise.
4: Steve Mason – Monkey Minds In The Devil’s Time: political and personal doom and hope told in timeless song.
5: Lizzo – Lizzobangers: old-skool hip-hop with new-skool wit and addictive energy.
6: Thee Oh Sees – Floating Coffin: prolific purveyors of psychoticpsychedelic-garage-rock at their riffing finest.
7: James Blake – Overgrown: raw spacious beauty over smoothly produced beats.
8: Julia Holter – Loud City Song: magical abstract textures in pretty floating dreams.
9: Earl Sweatshirt – Doris: drawled lyrical hip-hop stories of truth and youth.
10: Queens of the Stone Age – …Like Clockwork: the masters of awesome psychedelic heaviness add vague vulnerability to swagger and tunes.
ALBUMS
11: These New Puritans – Fields of Reeds: difficult and detailed offbeat excellence.
12: Parquet Courts – Light Up Gold: careless and cool rock’n’roll from passionate slackers.
13: Deafhaven – Sunbather: challenging black-art-metal makes for majestically uneasy listening.
14: Mikal Cronin – MCII: infectious power-punk-pop complete with fuzz and fun.
15: My Bloody Valentine – MBV: predictably perfect layers of nightmarish noise wrapped around comforting dreamy melody.
16: Savages – Silence Yourself: enjoyably angry aggressive angular anarchists spitting smart and thrilling slogans.
17: Foxygen – We Are The 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace & Magic: the best impersonation of the best of the best of the 60s of the year.
18: Local Natives – Hummingbird: widescreen indie emotion healed by tribal rhythms and soaring songs.
19: Kurt Vile – Wakin On A Pretty Daze: long aimless meanders into laid-back east-coast cool.
2013
20: David Bowie – The Next Day: an old genius rediscovering his youthful energy and melody.
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DAVE WILSON \
pass the culture mine’s a large one H
anging in the breeze, like some crow pecked cadaver on a gibbet, swings ‘englishness’. This ‘Englishness’ is, in the main, little more than a moribund assortment of rag, tag and bobtail myths, legends, folk tales, horror stories, gothic pyles, baronial halls, decrepit monasteries and feudal obsequiance, all topped out with an outraged, red cheeked, John Bull. If it was only for internal consumption it would be bad potage, but worse, it is touted, louted, pomped and ponced across the world’s stage - a grotesque, a parody, the final futile masquerade of Empire ‘mother of parliaments’, bringer of civilisation (sic) to the natives of the world. Dragging fig leaves of antiquity to cover the scorched earth policies of the corporate state, the underwhelming intellects of politicians, aided and abetted by the phalanxes of greasy-pole jockeys, spew forth a bewildering miasma of obfuscation - chocolate rations will be increased today,
said Alice in 1489. Back on the farm, culture vultures circle the tabernacles of their faith - Tate the younger, ah the Praedo - no Pompidou it’s over to you - pass the buck - does it suck. Novel citizen, ah! yes a paper magnate, Robespierre, - now I remember it’s Smith, room 101 tenth floor, every labyrinthine twist in the traducing of Joeseph K, citizen of a land in which all the laws were in place, these are the things of novel citizenry. There are many models of citizen - often to be found in novels sometimes in life - only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Novelly model citizens in modelly novel worlds, leading fictionally novel existences until the smoke and mirrors weave their potency all worlds are imagined. Taint wot u say itz the way wot you say it, the weighs with words, judged, summed, totalled - u know it makes cents. All these gone befores, intimidating, objections to subjections, subjected to objectives - spread
the angst thick. Weave wicked webs, spin crooked tales, examine shibboleth, tenet and mores, deadly sins, deadly earnest, black-hearted villains - a dame in distress, no theme unturned, emotion drawn, sins indulged, flesh mortified. Lineage - way back, your royal, regal, rocking, ruler, send for the pillars, the massed ranks of fanfare, yeah way back is us back before T-shirts. Bred, that’s the word you’re looking for bred is what we are, mated to property rites, see yer name up in lights. This is a land where reaction rules, pathetic ‘little Englanders’ with xenophobic smiles, beergutted, gimlet-eyed and greedy. Not for them the modern world. Sneering, jeering, and full of tabloid journalism, downing pints, gobbling pies - just some of the images a British culture brings. That’s not cricket - well now you come to mention it cricket isn’t cricket either - just another tool in the arsenal of empire. Ah!
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/ SARAH WHITEHOUSE
Pop-up Independent Trading O
n the first Saturday in December, traditionally one of the busiest shopping days of the year, I took a stroll around a drizzly Leeds city centre. It wasn’t just a feeling of Christmas cheer that gave the old place a bit of a glow; it really does feel that new and exciting independent pop ups are, well, popping up all over the place. Coincidentally, Saturday 7 December saw the UK’s first ever Small Business Saturday, encouraging shoppers to ‘buy local’ where they can. Leeds certainly seems to be championing independent businesses; even, whisper, collaborating with corporates to increase footfall. And for this new hybrid of 22_TheLeedsDebacle
‘independent’ and ‘pop-up,’ don’t necessarily read ‘fringe’, or ‘hipster’, either. It’s all very mainstream these days. Another first this December is Winter WonderLeeds – a popup marketplace from Leeds City Council – setting up stall for 17 days in the centre of Briggate; prime retail space that independent traders could ill afford otherwise. Inside the marquee, 20 stalls jostle for business: students from The Food Academy at Printworks selling deliciously smelling freshly-baked sourdough; the Bierkeller selling craft ale and novelty steins; Gateways School raising funds for the Teenage Cancer Trust by selling soaps. It feels very much
like a local village Christmas fair (or “fayre”, for added Dickensianinspired-Yuletide-spirit) brought into the heart of the chain-store metropolis that is Briggate. This, some say, is how the Christkindlmarkt (the German Market in Millenium Square) should be – a chance for local traders to showcase their goods. But this argument misses the point: the draw of the German Market is the fact that you can pick up a proper currywurst or pretzel that you just can’t get anywhere else in Leeds. It’s less about competition and more about complementing year-round market traders for a few weeks each year. Really though, for many, the German Market is less about the craft
stalls and more about the steins. Whether this is a good or bad thing probably depends on whether you managed to beat the queue and bag a coveted pew to perch on in the bier hall this year. I’m still to succeed. Lower Briggate is getting in on the independent-led shopping act too, with the newly opened Lambert’s Yard. The Grade II listed house, yard and arcade is one of Leeds’ hidden treasures, and has been restored to house a popup department store showcasing art, canvas prints, homeware, jewellery and fashion from emerging designers in Yorkshire and beyond. Hopefully, Lambert’s Yard will fill the void left by the closure of the fantastic Bird’s Yard on Kirkgate. It certainly provides a welcome breath of fresh air from the usual present-purchasingsuspects found in Leeds Trinity (more on that, later). I was particularly impressed with the Leeds Soap Company (the lavender and rosemary bath melts will make the perfect stocking filler). I’ll definitely be back. Development of the vast space is ongoing. I was lucky enough to be shown the floor plans – and Lambert’s Yard is HUGE. It’s such a hidden space smack bang in the centre of the city, and it’s great to see it being utilised so well. The pop-up is just the beginning; it will close at the end of January before the space re-emerges as a permanent department store for independent designers and brands, as well as creative exhibition and event space. Lambert’s Yard Manager Isla Brown explains: “We wanted to open the building one stage at a time, using each stage as an opportunity to learn what works and what doesn’t, how we can work with other local independents and what this city really needs from a space like this. The building deserves to be seen and it deserves to be used – we want to do it justice.”
Lambert’s Yard has, hopefully, got the recipe for success. “We are lucky in that we have a large building, close to the high street and a landlord who supports creative, sustainable use of the space,” she adds. The pop-up is joined by a Telegraph Magazine style photography exhibition on the second floor, and on the ground floor, steak restaurant Rare. The mention of steak takes me nicely on to a new food venture which sees independents and corporates collaborating, rather than colliding. Trinity Kitchen, the first of its kind in the UK, has seven permanent restaurants, cafes and bars, which sit snugly alongside five pop-up street food vans, rotating on a monthly basis. Selected with the help of Richard Johnson, food journalist and curator of the British Street Food, the aim is to make authentic street food available all year round, whatever the weather. It’s an innovative concept, and the reception so far has been overwhelmingly positive. You only need to visit on a Saturday afternoon to see what I mean. My initial impression of Trinity Kitchen was that, while undeniably A Good Thing, given the alternative food court scenario of KFC and McDonalds, I’d sort of seen it before. Westfield Stratford’s food hall has been transported up the M1– Chicago Rib Shack, Chip+Fish, PizzaLuxe, Pho, and Tortilla feature here, too. But these chains are all new to Leeds, and it’s great to see them choosing Trinity Kitchen as their first port of northern call. Some of the street food traders are local – the Marvellous Tea Dance Company, and the soon to be ensconced Fish& (currently popped-up at Belgrave Music Hall). Others are from further afield – Big Apple Hot Dogs, which featured in the first wave of street food vans in October, for example, can usually be found catering for the hungry workers of the Big Smoke. But does this, or should this, matter?
Is combining emerging chains with independent traders the future of retail development? Or is putting street food traders inside a corporate setting taking away potential footfall from stores not lucky enough to be situated inside the golden triangle of Boar Lane, Commercial Street and Briggate? I don’t know the answers, but it will be fascinating to see the concept of combining independent and corporate develop and replicate. For the moment, at least, this city seems to be big enough for the both of them. Leeds Trinity is by far the big ticket item added to Leeds’ shopping list this year. Love it or hate it, it’s hard to deny its regenerative influence – recent figures show that it is set to catapult Leeds into fourth place in the UK retail league table over the coming year (we’re in sixth place at the moment). But can you quantify an area’s retail success by identikit high-streets, filled with shoppers wearing the same things, shopping for more of the same? I don’t think you can. Neither does Lambert’s Yard Isla Brown: “The future of our high street is not about big corporates, it’s about spaces that work with and for the people that use them. The independent scene in Leeds is thriving and there are many great people behind it.” To me, the real sign Leeds is on the up again is the space that is constantly being found for innovative and independent traders – whether it be in Kirkgate Market, the Corn Exchange, Lambert’s Yard, Winter WonderLeeds, the city’s longestablished arcades, or the street food vans in Trinity Kitchen. These places give Leeds its quirkiness and its spirit. And on that note, I’m off to Belgrave for a bottle of Quaffing Gravy (brewed in Shipley) and a slice of Dough Boys Pizza (charcuterie from The Reliance over the road). Beats Pizza Express hands down.
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/ DAVID PIKE
Late Afternoons St. Thomas’ Am I haunted by a sky That only takes a minute to die In its sunset? I am and I know why. Can I feel it on the evening When cirrus clouds are weaving in the sky And a cold breeze is blowing on me, That they’re bringing back the way it used to be again? Can I stand in March and feel What’s ready to come? Can I stand in March and feel What’s ready to come? Walking home alone again In the railing season Chiding myself for remembering the far away days of rain, But I do. I’m going to have to say enough of evocation From the sight of a year in print; I’m going to have to say enough Of late shooting sun: But afternoon sunlight of an autumn, And late afternoons with you – Part of the essence of a time in a mature room That I went to, And looked around in alone.
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TIM CHAPMAN \
The Silver Mannequin (a Christmas Tale) There is a brown haired boy manoeuvring two small-scale tanks, one blue, one red. Blue pursues red. “Twenty seven civilians were killed today in what is thought to be a chemical attack in the heart of the Syrian capital.” said the white man on TV. The iron statues of an indistinct ‘20s american folk band; banjo, harp, singer and guitar are poised in mid-action of what could only be described as the blues. This corridor has all the trimmings of a street in New Orleans, it even has a sign telling me so. People sit outside behind fencing eating hamburgers below empty windows - there is nothing inside, behind the plywood exterior. I enter a new district of the shopping centre shaped like the inside of an old cruise liner, dull blue sky above and marigold clouds, then into another ambience, a new dimension like worm holes between times - now ancient Rome or perhaps Greece (whats the difference?). There is a handsome male model with a chunky metallic dust coloured watch, he looks determined but thoughtful, that must be the right way to tell the time, time costs money. “Now remember to wrap up tight, the temperatures will be colder than Iceland next week!”
says a jovial female voice on a radio in thick BBC tones.
lives.” said the white man on the TV.
I pass a lingerie shop, beckoning red lips and curvaceous figure; “come in…” I walk past a till where queues of disillusioned faces linger like the leather bags on the shelves, past the last minute shopper offers for those already making their escape - a last temptation.
I rummage through my pocket, through fluff and keys and receipts to scramble a 20p piece for the public toilets - this is my designated excretion zone.
There is a brightly coloured lotto ticket point, all blues and reds and golds and filled with cash symbols and big white smiling faces next to a smaller cardboard box all black and dark green with the picture of a starving child, pot bellied with flies in his eyes. I walk onward upon the shining sea shell marble floor running my hands along the smooth brass barriers that protect us from falling off the balcony. I walk past great indoor palms trees and glittering chandeliers with a thousand plastic diamonds. I walk past four or five women dressed in power suits strategically positioned in the corridor wielding perfume testers sprayed on wooden sticks. There is a great sign outside the food section with huge letters “half price all week”, “two for one”, “five for three” and “buy one get one free”. “The car bomb in Baghdad is said to have claimed over seventeen
In the aisle there is low fat yoghurt, gluten free bread, alcohol free wine and magazines. I scan bulked up body fit men, china tattooed women and frowning hunters with red shades, body warmers and air rifles complete with a free offer on the newest model. “What an atrocious resulting performance from Athletic this afternoon, I suppose they won’t be celebrating tonight. What are your thought, Jan?” said the white man on the TV. A mother scolds her child in a harness - she is trying to run away again. I stand now in a shop and stare at the silver mannequin. Its glabrous, shining head like poised liquid mercury staring back at me and I see in its forehead my own reflection, warping as it leads down over nipple-less breasts and on to the nail-less toes. This naked vacant being mirrors everything and uses it to shape itself, sucking in all the images like a black hole and echoing them back out to any and all observers.
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/ Matt Andrews
leedsgallery.com / @leedsgallery
ART 2013
At Gallery Munro House we don’t get many opportunities to get out and about, but looking back over the year as it draws to a close there are a few things that stood out for us from the Leeds art scene.
We started the year with a visit to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park (ysp. co.uk - below) to catch the end of the Miró Exhibition – intriguing to see his works translated to a cold, windy and wintry Yorkshire setting.
White Cloth Gallery (whiteclothgallery.com - above) had a retrospective exhibition of photographs of David Bowie in late Summer. It’s always great to see ‘fine photographs’ on show outside London, and this snapshot at the way Bowie has been portrayed over the years through his many guises was fascinating.
More recently, early December saw the opening of Lamberts Yard (lambertsyard.com), the top floor of which is currently showing an exhibition curated by Sharon from WCG – it’s an amazing new space and we’re excited to see where it goes in 2014 - the exhibition currently on display is a selection of photographs from the Telegraph Magazine.
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MEXICO (www.m-e-x-i-c-o.co.uk below) has followed in the more left-of-field path they’ve now become known for, and while sometimes challenging in their more abstract nature, there are hidden gems in each show if you’re willing to take the time to look. At one show in the Summer they had a sculpture made of resin blocks that was truly beautiful.
Every few months we pop in to Hester Gallery (hestergallery. co.uk), out on Meanwood Road. Simon has been there for years and they have to be included in any round-up of independent galleries in Leeds. He currently has an Art Sale on with pieces from past exhibitions.
The Gallery at Flannels (thegalleryatflannels.blogspot. co.uk - above) had a great exhibition earlier this year of limited edition music prints - #flyposting2 (quite a few of which are now gracing our walls at home). They added an extra element to the show by spreading it out across venues throughout the City. It is (or was) a hidden gem that has always shown a selection of interesting and accessible work - we were sad to hear rumours it’s closing its doors this month and it will be missed.
For us 2013 has been a great year, we’ve had The Foo Fighters and Red Hot Chili Peppers on Tour, Lord Whitney and Jack Hudson’s Mock ‘n’ Roll (mocknroll.co.uk), Cartoons of Margaret Thatcher from the Chris Beetles Gallery (chrisbeetles.com), Faces by Lee Goater (faceslx.com), and our current Neon show (below)… it’s a vein we’re continuing in next year, highlights to include a Tattoo exhibition, a bike exhibition to coincide with Le Grand Depart and of course the third Leeds Print Festival (leedsprintfestival.com) in January.
‘The Last Stand’ by Terry O’Neill Award Winner Marc Wilson at the Royal Armories (royalarmouries. org), which opened in October, is a fantastic project and Marc’s dedication is really impressive, notwithstanding the fact that he’s a really nice guy. It continues into next year and is definitely worth a visit.
We’re really looking forward to 2014, Leeds really feels like its going somewhere art-wise – with the opening of The Tetley (thetetley.org) and the new gallery space at the Hepworth (hepworthwakefield.org), the established, council run galleries are going from strength to strength while the independents are always striving for new and exciting work… here’s hoping for more in the new year.
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/ BILL HAYTER
A Waste of Energy I
write this article by candlelight and by hand, under jumpers and beneath duvets. I am in fuel poverty. That is what I was told by the television that I can no longer watch and the radio that I can no longer listen to. ‘Nation fuming over surging gas prices!’ ‘Price of electricity shocks!’ ‘Gas hike fuels anger!’ ‘Electricity overcharges!’ ‘Increase in gas stinks!’ they said. Towards the end of 2013 all the major UK energy suppliers announced price increases at a time when millions were already defined as fuel poor. Initial outrage at the ‘big six’ was more understandable than their incomprehensible bills and so demands of transparency were made for the public by the media and by the government. Politicians, sniffing a chance of relative popularity, summoned the heads of each company, the guys the nation now hated even more than the politicians themselves, to explain their evils. Except when they do it turns out the main reason for the rising prices are higher government taxes to the energy companies and the public become unsure who to blame again.
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Suddenly Ed Miliband’s muchmocked empty promise of fixing energy prices for 18 months seemed less preposterous. David Cameron waded in with his usual thoughtless sloganeering and, now that it was public-knowledge that his party did have some control over pricing, vowed to do something about it. What they did however, whilst undoubtedly succeeding in the short-term promise of lowering prices, was the ultimate in self-defeating; reducing and removing taxes which were in place for energy efficiency improvements. Investment in necessary longterm alternatives such as renewable energy were effectively halved, meaning the problems causing the current scenario could in future double. Taxes paid by suppliers to fund financial help for the most vulnerable were removed, meaning either more difficulty for those least financially able or the government simply moving the tax elsewhere. And timescales on schemes to improve household heat with measures like free insulation were extended, meaning reliance on using gas or electric heating for more for longer. A tiny price reduction appears to have been prioritised over potentially huge consumption reduction.
The dismissal of renewable energy and the ease in which the decisions were accepted by public and media is worrying. Alongside the insistence on using another damaging short-sighted solution of fracking - the toxic process of drilling and injecting fluid into the ground - it seems that once again we are allowing political squabbling and financial powers to dictate and benefit at the expense of future generations. And, amidst the finger-pointing, the current generation have lost interest. The media told us we wanted more transparency but we don’t understand it. Should we be angry at the energy suppliers for increasing prices? Should we be angry at the government for reducing efficiency? Should we be angry at the media for increasing fear? Or should we be angry at ourselves for allowing it all to happen and being taken in by it? After all, I am not in fuel poverty. They changed the definition of a meaningless term so the numbers fit the story they wanted to tell. At least I can finish this article by computer and by central heating, under lightbulbs and beneath a heap of bills.
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/ JOHN BARRAN
the ashes As one midweek night in late 2010 merged into one midweek morning, I felt the sudden strike of realisation that I had to be at work in an hour and I’d had no sleep. This was not the first time I had experienced this sensation but it was the first time sober and well. The reason was not all-night parties or all-night sickness. The reason was, of course, all-night cricket. I had found myself still up at midnight as The Ashes 201011 series was about to begin in Australia. After the triumphant 2009 home series, anticipation was high and I failed to resist the temptation of keying 401 into the Sky remote - just to watch the first ball, maybe the first over. Despite England’s turgid opening performance, the first over became the first session became the first day. An engrossing and ultimately victorious series progressed and a further 20 or so nights were to be spent grappling with the desire to stay up and the hope to not lose my job.
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So in late 2013 it begins again. A splattering of Englishmen across the country sit alone on settees at ungodly hours to watch a sport lasting 8 hours a day for 5 days. Some then go to work for 8 hours a day for 5 days. Some had the foresight (and presumably also the required lack of other interests/ friends/family) to use their work holiday allowance for such an occasion. For those who find such behaviour incomprehensible, here is a general overview of how this winter’s cricket all-nighters tended to go:
1:00am: An hour of intense staring and occasional strangled shouts on an Australian field and in English living rooms. The match is enjoyably tense and tight. One chap wonders how to tell his date that he’s getting up to watch cricket now. Henry Blofeld talks about moustaches.
11:30pm: A dubious assortment of eccentrics take to social networks to write serious comments about tossing and swinging conditions. Sky Sports build anticipation with clips of historic glory and quotes from the current sides PR squabbles (‘give it to him right from the word go’).
3:00am: Back to the settee for the afternoon session. Nothing much happens. Drowsy eyes criticise having a long leg and no silly short leg. Everything is serene and beautiful. Michael Vaughan talks about reverse balls.
12:00am: Radio 5 Live Sports Extra has midnight audience figures above zero for the first time in nearly 3 years. Nerves are eased when James Anderson doesn’t bowl the first ball to second slip. Australians boo loudly and moronically at Stuart Broad. Jonathan Agnew talks about new haircuts.
2:00am: Lunch at the other side of the world. Less kettles are boiled than in the Coronation Street ad break. Some spirits are poured. Ian Botham tells us to go to bed.
4:00am: Excitement has turned to boredom/disappointment/ annoyance. England begin to resemble Graham Gooch’s 90s team assessment of ‘a fart competing with thunder’. Staying up seems like a mistake. David Lloyd says oysters put lead in your pencil.
5:00am: The teams take tea, the still-awake audience take coffee/whisky/bacon/biscuits for a second wind. Shane Warne says a balanced diet is a cheeseburger in each hand.
6:00am: Interest increases as the match intensifies. Social networks are furious at Australia insults (‘get ready for a broken f***ing arm’), cricket experts are not. Michael Atherton welcomes those getting up back home. Christ.
7:00am: One final effort by both sides and both eyes to finish the day/night. Australia succeed, England don’t. Worlds overlap as people start getting up for work. Hallucinations. Geoffrey Boycott says his mother could catch it in her apron and hit it with a stick of rhubarb.
8:00am: Time for bed/work.
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TIM KNIGHT \
I Came Back Home To Leeds Amber tipped autumn trees burn and maim the hills of home. I’m on a train travelling back up’North to where water runs clean from taps and where on-tap ale is far cheaper, cheaper than a fiver-a-pint slap. The station hasn’t changed much in fact it’s busier and colder than usual, maybe East Coast turned down the heating, so put an extra jumper on, complain about the weather, mind the gap for the last time, your train is fleeing it’s gone. Track back, back through ginnels and back alley shortcuts to Brudenell warmth: comfortable and cosy and cushy, a somewhat womb for all and so many. It’s another band no-one has heard of, but we’re kind here lending an ear to the nervous new singer who knows all the words to her songs, and his songs, and the long-gone songs of way back when. The South can keep the summer, the East too, the West is there to shield us from forever-winds whilst we get on with it: to-go coffees from Laynes on New Station street, admiration for Shopkeepers on the corner, and back down the Headrow for organised, alphabetised, musical treats.
something to do every day.. JAN 1st Mono Cult (Canal Mills) 2nd A New Reality (Tetley) 3rd Yorkshire Artists (Leeds Gallery) 4th in-tray (Mexico) 5th WEA (Central Library) 6th The World of Anthony Browne (City Museum) 7th Should Leeds Bid For European Capital of Culture? (Town Hall) 8th Hinterland (Munro House) 9th Art and Life (Art Gallery) 10th Fosters Comedy Live (Highlight) 11th Frank Fairfield (Howard Assembly) 12th Brew-denell (Brudenell) 13th Lamb of God (Academy) 14th Jacobean Ruff (Friends of Ham) 15th Dennis Oppenheim (Henry Moore) 16th The Power of Good (Seven) 17th Don’t Let Go (Carriageworks) 18th Hannah Trigwell (Cockpit) 19th MDG15 (Arts@Trinity) 20th Trevor Noah (Varieties) 21st Within & Without (Flannels) 22nd Adam Green (Wardrobe) 23rd Justin Robertson (Outlaws) 24th Stewart Lee (WYP) 25th Hookworms (Wharf Chambers) 26th Strictly Come Dancing (Arena) 27th Runs On The Board (Doubletree) 28th Bettakultcha (Brudenell) 29th Leeds Print Festival (Leeds Gallery) 30th Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas (White Cloth) 31st Words On Tap (Chemic)
Dame Edna... or Nicky Wire
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Stuart Lee ... scruffy sod FEB 1st Katherine Ryan (HiFi) 2nd Leeds Carnegie v Bedford (Headingley) 3rd Bof! (Bowery) 4th Anna Calvi (Met) 5th Bill Callahan (Irish Centre) 6th Young Fathers (Belgrave) 7th Gareth Davies-Jones (All Hallows) 8th Twin Atlantic (Stylus) 9th Irving Berlin (Town Hall) 10th The Girl of the Golden West (Grand) 11th Moon On A Rainbow Shawl (WYP) 12th Banff Mountain Film Festival (Carriageworks) 13th Valentines Fair (Elland Road) 14th From Paris With Love (Grand) 15th Valentines Dance (HEART) 16th The Last Stand (Armouries) 17th The Strypes (Met) 18th Macbeth (Grand) 19th Warpaint (Academy) 20th Russell Kane (Varieties) 21st Leeds Rhinos v Warrington (Headingley) 22nd Classic Film Poster Season (White Cloth) 23rd Toy (Cockpit) 24th Ice Cube (Millennium Square) 25th Reverend and the Makers (Met) 26th Dame Edna Everage (Grand) 27th Leeds Sports Awards (New Dock) 28th Temples (Stylus)
Metronanonanonomy MAR 1st John Cooper Clarke (Town Hall) 2nd Bombay Bicycle Club (Academy) 3rd Of Mice & Men (WYP) 4th Hardeep Singh Kholi (Wardrobe) 5th Disney On Ice (Arena) 6th Eagulls (Brudenell) 7th Luke Sital-Singh (Holy Trinity) 8th Theme Park (Eiger) 9th International Artists’ Book Fair (Tetley) 10th Festival For Artistic Innovation (College of Music) 11th Leeds Utd v Reading (Elland Road) 12th X Factor (Arena) 13th Psychic Graffiti (Outlaws) 14th Cleopatra (Grand) 15th Alfred Drury (Stanley & Audrey Burton) 16th St Patrick’s Day Parade (Millennium Square)
17th Rembrandt (Temple Newsam) 18th Metronomy (Academy) 19th Bassekou Kouyate & Ngoni Ba (Howard Assembly) 20th Darts (Arena) 21st The Orb (Brudenell) 22nd Keir Smith (Henry Moore) 23rd Student World Fair (Armouries) 24th Derren Brown (Grand) 25th Second Star To The Right (Carriageworks) 26th Franz Ferdinand (Academy) 27th Richard Herring (Varieties) 28th Manic Street Preachers (Arena) 29th Yerma (Northern School of Contemporary Dance) 30th Potts of Leeds (Armley Mills) 31st Robert Filliou (Henry Moore)ttv
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Issue 14 of The Leeds Debacle is: John Barran Ross Newsome Howard Marks Sarah Whitehouse Ian Gant Mark Brown
Hannah Fahy Matt Andrews Philip Regan Tim Chapman Emily Hallewell Ian Pepper
Dave Wilson Criminonymous Tim Knight Bill Hayter David Pike Stuarts Photography
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