Nouvelle Vague

On Saturday night, I saw French band Nouvelle Vague play at the Bloomsbury Ballroom. Their concept to cover New Wave songs in a Bossa Nova and French jazz style is inspired. Their two albums have featured songs such as Love will tear us apart, Teenage Kicks, Blue Monday and Ever fallen in love, stripping away the angsty guitars and synths and replacing them with acoustic, breathy, laid back, summery grooves. The resulting music, though great, is a little too light, too fragile for my taste.

I wasn't sure how this would translate on stage. Happily, in a live settings, Nouvelle Vague's music becomes more rhythmic and insistent with a deeper resonance as the double bass makes its presence felt.

Nor had I reckoned on Nouvelle Vague's two very charismatic live singers, Melanie Pain and Phoebe Killdeer. Playing a range of instruments - tambourines, maraccas, cowbells and harmonicas - both have a captivating stage presence. Their voices have contrasting styles which perfectly compliment each other - Melanie sings sweetly with breathy, wistful, hopeful, poignant tones, while Phoebe's voice is darker, deeper, and more dramatic. As a twosome, they're wonderfully alluring and enigmatic, dancing through the songs with light sways and expressive hands. Melanie plays a cute, wide-eyed innocence. The songs she leads (Ever Fallen in Love, Blue Monday) become melodic and sweet. Phoebe's songs have more drama - her Bela Lugosi's Dead is baroque.

It doesn't always work. Their cover of Blondie's Heart of Glass begins brilliantly with Phoebe archly singing a melodramatic Spanish flamenco. The song soon turns to sweet melodies, which I felt was a missed opportunity. Conversely their cover of Too Drunk to Fuck descends from their style to a riotous cacophony, with most of the audience dancing and chanting along as if the original was being played.

Happily, these are exceptions rather than the rule. There's a sense of playful fun through their music, especially in concert. Phoebe caused my favourite moment, melodramatically asking for the house lights to be turned "red, deep red, passionate red, blood red". The lights stayed candy pink, to which she replied gothically, "...or pink will do". Their versions of Guns of Brixton and Friday night, Saturday morning were sublime, melodic and haunting, the latter all the more so as I had gone out on Friday night and returned on Saturday morning and felt the effects... The overall effect is to cause a wry smile, with admiration for talent both in performance and music.

Buy Bande a Part

Fab at 50

This is my 50th post on acediscovery and, by sheer serendipity, is a year to the day that I started the blog with my very long post about Gdansk.

So to mark the occasion, I've been out and about in London looking for 50s. And here they are:

Mika

I went to see up-and-coming popstar Mika last night. Dingwalls is a rubbish venue, but Mika more than made up for it. Although he's relatively new, as 2007's great big hype, he seems to have amassed a hoard of fans. Fan girls crowded in front of the stage a good twenty minutes before the gig began, all clutching their Mika rosettes and sucking the Mika lollipops which had been dutifully provided by his street team.

Mika's performance was energetic and entertaining. He bopped around the stage, high-kicking and flailing his arms about with aplomb. He is quite tall, thin, with a fey indie style dressed in white shirt, red trousers and black braces (looked better than it sounds). His voice has a quite surprising range - from high falsetto to an almost indie growl, the vocals oscillate, often in the same song.

Mika's popstar equation:

(Jake Shears + Freddy Mercury) - (homosexuality + campness + rock) =	Mika
(Rufus Wainwright x disco) x metrosexuality =

Sort of. Either that, or he's oddly unique, and yet not really unique either. The songs sound like everything we've heard before in a familiar, loving way. Most are instantly catchy.



His first single, Relax (Take it Easy) opened the gig, and it is ace, a potential anthem for early 2007 with its arms-aloft-yet-chilled sentiment, soaring high disco chorus and dance-bop beats. This was followed by the more strident, more uptempo Love Today and other jolly, ecccentric songs about married men having gay affairs, and loving larger ladies, and a rather affecting, dramatic ballad. The gig ended with the anthemic-although-formulaic Grace Kelly, made better with ace vogue-esque hand movements. The encore was the quite wonderful playground-esque Lollipop, which could either be about having too much sex, or too much wanking or quite possibly neither of these things.

The dancing for Lollipop involved playing with his braces in a jaunty fashion. This was rather good.

At one point his grandmother appeared on stage to dance with him, providing the best On-Stage Granny Action since Boonika banged her drum for Moldova on stage at Eurovision 2005.

He has an ace drummer, who plays a starring role during Grace Kelly.

Mika is almost certainly destined for popstardom. The songs are ace, he's a great performer. Hurrah.


Mika website Mika myspace

Baila! Baila! Baila!

On Saturday evening, I went to First Out Café to a Spanish pop music night held there every two weeks. I didn't know a lot about the night before going, having only seen a flyer on a recommendation from Karinski. The dress code, rather fabulously, was for "wigs & heels".

Getting there around 8.30, it was already busy with a happy bunch of Spanish gays, guys and girls, bopping around the DJ box. The music initially was quite Spanish-indie-pop guitar bands, so I wondered how Spanish poppy it would be. How soon should I pester the DJs, asking for anything by Chenoa! or David Bisbal! or any other fab latin-pop songs?!

Las Ketchup's Asereje was played a few minutes later, and I was happily reassured that it was pop, pop, pop all the way. 

Chenoa's excellent Cuando Tu Vas soon followed, with joyful whoops from me, as did David Bisbal's Buleria and Shakira's Hips Don't Lie, which (if not strictly Spanish) is whole lot of ace Latin pop. One man told me that the night was "really great" as it was the only gay Spanish pop night in London. Hurrah!



Highlights of the new-songs-I-hadn't-known were a song which may or may not be called Enamorada del amor by Joan Sebastian, a Mexican singer and definitely Maquillaje by Mecano, an ace song which sounds like early 80s preview for Girls Aloud's Biology. You can listen to that below. Apparently it's all about disguising one's true appearance through make-up, with reference to the superficiality of modern society. So, here are some people wearing wigs and dancing. Ace!

Headlines

Like so many Londoners, I read today's Metro on my trek to work. Tabloid journalism is never very accurate but today's headlines seem just ridiculous. I can't believe that Metro, Evening Standard, London Lite and thelondonpaper can get away with such scurrilous, shrieking, scare-mongering and worrying headlines.

"DRUG RAPE IS A MYTH" screams today's headline. The article reveals how sedative drugs had not been used in a sample of 120 rape cases tested by the police. Not that drugs had never been used, not that drug rape is non-existant (or a "myth") - just that drug rape is not as widespread as we would perhaps believe. With a rather cruel irony, it would seem drug rape is a media panic.

On a lighter note, I noticed a headline about the "real James Bond". The article showed a composite picture of what makes the ideal James Bond, taking elements from all the actors that have played Bond. So this picture is not the 'real' James Bond - it's a fake picture, of actors. The survey revealed that the 'perfect' Bond would have Daniel Craig's eyes, Sean Connery's nose, Roger Moore's hair and eyebrows, Timothy Dalton's jaw and Pierce Brosnan's Smile.

I don't know what the survey respondents were thinking about. Have they not seen the Daniel Craig's publicity shots for Casino Royale? It ain't his eyes I'm looking at! Hello.

Dragonette

On Monday night, I went with Mr. Gaypop and Ms. Karinski to Ghetto to see Dragonette, a new electropop band who are Canadian but based in the UK. 

They played about 8 songs in all. Their song I Get Around is an ace synthy number with an excellent rousing pop chorus. I think about this song at least 3 times a week, as it has the line "so I tiptoe out of this mess / as I slip myself back into last night's dress". Then the singer slathers herself with lipstick and faces the day - a song about The Walk of Shame, how fantastic.

The gig was great. Lead singer Martina is quite fabulous, addressing the crowd with a louche, but enthusiastic, style. She wore gold spandex skin-tight leggings (which I know she bought at American Apparel), ace black shoes with a gold heel, black-and-gold fingerless gloves, and black cashmere cardigan with a piece-de-resistance accessory - a mutilated pom-pom hanging from one shoulder (made from cassette tape, so she told us).

I was highly impressed by some of their newer songs, which I hadn't heard before the gig. True Believer sounds like an ace rousing, power uptempo ballad-esque pop song. I can see it being huge. I like equations, so Dragonette sound something like this:

Rogue Traders - Rock + Electro = Dragonette ≈ No Doubt + Pop - Ska.

While Martina moved around, dancing with the audience, standing on the amps and generally shimmying like a funky-robotnic, the rest of the band stood intent on playing their music. I was quite taken by this guitarist. Hello. 

The band finished off by saying, “We’re Dragonette... you’re not - but don’t feel bad about it.” Cute, and great attitude.

So. Dragonette: they have excellent synthy-pop music and a fabulous nouveau-eighties look. The pic below is one of their striking gender-bending-but-not-too-much promo images. Having already supported Scissor Sisters and New Order live, 2007 could just be their year. Here's hoping.

Wish I was there

When an idea forms in my brain, I often find myself thinking that I wish I'd thought of it earlier. For instance, I wish I had thought of my map collecting project a year ago, and could have collected maps from my trips to Poland, Latvia, Sweden, Japan etc. This thought came to me again a few weeks ago. We went for a day to Hastings, during the lovely weather of the Indian summer.

As we walked along the clifftops, I looked out to sea. I was taken by the strong, vivid, complimentary blues of the sea and sky, divided by the horizon. I took some photographs. I was pleased when I looked back at the photographs, but thought that these could have been taken anywhere. There was a universality in the combination of sea and sky.

I again started to wonder why I hadn't thought of this idea earlier. A framed picture formed in my mind, showing 8 small photographs of the sky and sea, each taken in an entirely different location, yet each with a similar and timeless universality.

I thought about this some more when I got home, and started looking through my photographs pictures. I found that kernels of this idea had formed, but nothing fully fledged. The photographs below are from Brighton, Barcelona, Japan, Cork, Kerry and San Francisco.














I love how each photograph could be anywhere (with the possible exception of the photo from Barcelona). There is sky, there is sea. But each photograph is, for me, grounded - that is Kerry, that is Barcelona etc. My memory of these places influences my viewing of the photographs. So while I was disappointed that I had not had this idea sooner, I found that thinking about how the idea traced its way through my previous travels was as rewarding as any ultimate framed picture.

Japan-style

I've spent the past couple of weeks working on this image from my trip to Japan. I put most of these photographs on the blog inMay. I wanted to do something more with them. So I collaged the best photographs together, making a large poster print which I've framed and now adorns my bedroom wall. It measures 30 x 40cm, and is a riot of colour. I'm really quite pleased with it.

I'd like to sell this, and any other image I've done, as prints. So if you'd like to buy a print of this, just let me know by commenting or emailing or any-way-you-can and we'll organise something.

Air-port

A new airport terminal in Marseille was in the news last week, as it is being dubbed Europe's first no-frills airport. The former freight warehouse has been minimally transformed into an airport, designed to cater for the burgeoning low-cost airline market. This article describes the airport - only minimal seating, very few mechanics with passengers carrying their own luggage to security, there are no carpets and passengers walk to the plane, rather than on ramps. The idea is that the airport cuts down on costs and time spent waiting.

I can't quite decide if this is a good idea or not. Cutting time and costs is to be commended, but it should be questioned what is being lost. Airports are strange spaces, devoid of any identification. One airport wall could almost be any another. If it were not for the shops, restaurants and other amenities, airports could be in any city, any country, anywhere.

I remember quite a few years ago, Cork airport unveiled a statue of the ex-Irish soccer manager Jack Charlton. This statue was located in the main hall of the airport. The statue is gone now, as is the sense of the space as being Irish. The new terminal is a very bland space - the most Irish aspect is its use of wood as a decorative material (an almost ubiquitous feature of contemporary Irish industrial architecture). In the run up to the launch of the airport's new terminal, Cork airport ran an ad campaign saying "Soon, you won't know where you are" referring to the great changes in the airport, but equally having a poignant double meaning.


San Francisco airport was the probably worst airport that I've been in. Nothing about it said "San Francisco". I arrived in the evening, the airport was relatively quiet. But more than that, it was dull. All I remember from the airport is grey - grey walls, grey carpets, grey atmosphere.

I quite like airports. I like knowing where I am. I'm always keen to find the large signs outside airports declaring the town or city, and disappointed when they're not there. I feel sad that airports are not more rooted in their cities. Maybe I'm overly sentimental, of course, as airports in the modern travel industry seem to have become nothing more than in-between spaces, out-of-place buffer zones.

Tiny people, rule the world, and ocean waves

'Little people' is a tiny street art project by slinchaku. He creates tiny, little hand-painted people and leaves them on the streets of London, with photographs. I think this is ace, not alone because the images are very cute but it makes me think of seeing the city in a whole new way. The little people have an added vulnerability, or minute-ness - the city becomes massive, something huge to behold and negotiate with.

Slinchaku leaves the little people where he has placed them, to 'fend for themselves'. In his most recent photoset, I recognised the pub in the background. "That's the Perseverance on Lamb's Conduit Street!", I thought. So I trotted off to check it out. A long phonecall ("now go right, straight ahead, do you see the poles?") later to verify the location, and I had found the figurine. I took this photo, which does not do any justice to slinchaku's great work. The little person had fallen over, so I set her right and left her in situ.

*******

Steele & Clairwil have a blog called The Postcard Manifestos. They ask people to send postcards with a mainfesto, their reasons why they should rule the world. I sent a postcard recently. I wrote what I would change if I ruled the world. So if I ruled the world...

1. House prices would be abolished.
2. Exercise would be fun and mandatory.
3. People would dance more.
4. People would draw more.
5. Everything would work correctly.

*******

I love 'message in a bottle' stories. The idea of a bottle being thrown to sea and randomly ending up elsewhere is just ace. Artist Layla Curtis took this idea 2 years ago, throwing 50 bottles into the sea at Ramsgate. She hoped they would reach the south Pacific Ocean, but the bottles seem to have floundered, seeming to go only as far as the Netherlands.

So the news today that a bottle thrown into the North Sea by a young girl in Scotland has reached New Zealand is pretty amazing. Keely Reid threw a bottle into the waters of the Moray Firth, hoping that it would maybe reach Norway. She was completely surprised when a boy in New Zealand wrote to her saying he had found it. It reached there in 47 days, an astounding rate. "It is brilliant, this bottle travelled farther than I ever have," said Keely, which is rather poignant really.

Sadly, for Keely, experts say it's just not possible the bottle made it to New Zealand in such a short time because of global weather systems and ocean currents. "I don't like to shatter the poor girl's imaginings but there is no way it could happen," says an expert, pretty much does shattering such a wonderful idea.

Banking on Iceland

As a relatively recent migrant to the UK, I have a pretty low credit score. I've never been in debt, nor have ever had any problems with my accounts and I moved flats a few times. This all means that banks don't trust me for credit (I won't rant about this but, frankly, it's ridiculous!). I spoke recently with someone who works for a bank. She advised me to open savings accounts as these help with the credit score.

I read yesterday about a new bank in the UK - a bank from Iceland. Landsbanki, Iceland's first and longest running financial institution, are breaking into the UK market with a savings account which offers a very healthy interest rate. A bank, from Iceland? How ace! The website is evocative - pictures of volcanic activity and blue lagoons.

So I applied. Everything was going well until I read that I would need a UK passport to confirm my identity (I didn't). I called to confirm. As I was awaiting a response, I hoped I'd talk to someone with a name like Gudmunsdottir, someone just like Björk, Selma, or Silvia Night.

These hopes were dashed when Nikki answered the phone with a thick Geordie accent, sounding for all the world like Ant + Dec's younger sister. So my exotic Icelander hopes were dashed.

Still, I can at least hope she was Cheryl Tweedy's cousin.

Map of Finland, by Kaarina

I recently joined PostCrossing, a website for postcard swapping. I send postcards from London to random people, and random people send me postcards from their cities or countries. On my profile, I ask people to send me their country maps for my EuroGlobe map-of-Europe's-countries project.

To my delight, last week I received a map of Finland from Kaarina, who is 19, and lives in the town of Rauma.

Kaarina has drawn Finland and added her own touches, some of which had me searching for random facts about Finland. Along the base, she has drawn evergreen forests, which are an evocative image of Finland. She shows a Nokia phone: I never knew that there is town in Finland called Nokia. Along the side, there is wrapping from sweets called Salmiakki. These are a liquorice sweet, a Finnish delicacy.
Across the top, there is the wrapper from something which appears to be Gifu, but is in fact Sisu. Sisu are liquorice throat sweets, but also much more. Due to its cultural significance, sisu is a popular Finnish brand name. Sisu is a very Finnish concept, meaning 'to have balls'. Kaneli writes that "sisu means will and decisiveness to get the things done against impossible odds, or to succeed even when the chance is slim to make it." I can imagine why the Finnish have this mentality with their harsh weather. And, hey, they even won Eurovision this year after 45 years of entering - a victory for sisu!

This is an ace concept to bring to my project. I still have loads of countries to collect, but every time I see Kaarina's map of Finland, the spirit of sisu will inspire me to keep going.

Foreign Affairs

aloone.com, a new internet dating site, have undertaken a poll of Londoners' dating habits. Their results on nationalities are intriguing. The poll asked Londoners which nationalities they would date. London men and women are very much interested in British men and British women.

Men would choose to date: British (62%), Australian (37%), Scandinavian (34%), American (33%), Mediterranean (33%), Spanish (33%), Brazilian (30%), French (27%), German (23%) and Eastern European (21%).

Women would choose to date: British (61%), American (30%), Mediterranean (27%), Australian (25%), French (18%), Spanish (18%), Scandinavian (16%), Caribbean (16%), Brazilian (13%) and South African (10%).

My first reaction to this was the 'Mediterranean', 'Scandinavian', 'Eastern European' etc. were not actual nationalities. The definite choice of British as most popular is significant, I think, as it does not reflect how I see dating in London on the gay scene.

All around me, perhaps as a result of being a foreigner in London, I see relationships developing with many nationalities and outside the horizons of Britain. This may be in part due to the large numbers of gay men from foreign countries in London.

Research from a study of gay Londoners shows that a significant minority come from other European countries and the rest of the world, with 23.3% born outside the UK. These figures outnumber official census figures for Greater London which show 21.7% born outside the UK. 6.9% of those in the Census came from other European countries (11.4% in the gay research), only 0.06% from North America (3.6% in gay resarch), and only 0.06% from Australasia (3.2% in gay research).

My boyfriend is Austrian; many of my friends and his friends are in relationships with people from other countries. I find this mixing of nationalities incredible, and now it's not surprising to meet people from all around the world. A quick roll call shows relationships made up of people from:

Ireland & Austria
UK & New Zealand
UK & Australia
UK & Ireland
France & Denmark
Germany & South Africa
Sweden & Brazil
Greece & Basque Country
South Africa & Japan
UK & USA
UK & St Lucia
Ireland & Jamaica (& China & Poland)

While the last one might have been a more fleeting relationship, there certainly are more fluid boundaries in London.

Arigato

I went to see Arigato, a new Japanese film on Saturday, which was part of a short festival organised by the Japanese Embassy.

The film tells the story of a volunteer fireman and his family after the Kobe earthquake of 1995. I've always thought it might be cool to experience an earthquake, but not after seeing this - it just looks bloody scary.

The film continues from its dramatic opening to tell the story of how he takes a leading role in rebuilding the city and then, improbably, becomes a pro-golfer. It's wonderfully warm and funny, which great convincing performances throughout.

I enjoyed it even more as a Japanese film that is not about samurai or manga, but rather a more realistic image. I loved seeing small aspects of Japanese culture - for instance, the formal ways in which "Arigato" (thank you) and "hai" (yes) were said through the film, all of which contribute even more to my love of Japan.

The film has not been released in Japan, and I don't know if it is getting a cinema release here in the UK, but if it is, go see.

Weekend + world

When you work everyday in an office, your world tends to revolve around the weekend.

This weekend I'm off to see the Scissor Sisters play a big charity concert in Trafalgar Square, which should be all manner of fun. My good friend Fiona is accompanying me.

Fiona recently drew a picture of the world for me. Thanks to her for that - here it is:

Have a good weekend, whatever you do!

Ireland by Deirdre, Greece by Daphne, Portugal by Mauro

I watched a TV show last week called A Song for London, which followed musician Ben Roy around London in an attempt to find a person from every nation to sing him a song.

His attempts were mildly successful - he found people from about 70% of the world's countries, an astounding figure. He was seen speaking with embassies, cultural organisations, schools and even football teams in the hope of finding foreigners.

And while Roy attempted to complete his task in a week, I was reminded of my own project. I've collected a few more maps in the past few weeks.

When I was at home in Ireland at the end of August, I asked my good friend Deirdre, who's another geography and travelling fan, to draw Ireland.

Daphne, from Athens, has a blog which I read. She very kindly sent me her map of Greece.

Mauro, from Portugal, left me a comment about his new blog and project to collect 1 Million Love Messages. I like his idea - so in exchange for my message, I asked him for a map of Portugal. He very kindly agreed.

In addition to his map, Mauro also sent me a postcard of his city - doesn't it look fantastic?!

walkwalkwalk

I went to see walkwalkwalk, a performance by Gail Burton, Serena Korda and Clare Qualmann, at the Camden Arts Centre a few nights ago.

The artists take an urban walk as the core of their art. On this walk, they collect items from the strewn rubbish they find.

On entering the performance space, the three artists stood around a table, discussing each item in turn. The discussion was framed as an episode of Antiques Roadshow. I was initially not impressed by this; they seemed to present wonderfully everyday items in an overly pretentious manner.

I soon realised, however, that their script revealed how the items represented layers of social history. Examining a sachet of salt, they discussed salt's role in folk rituals - how carrying it warded off evil spirits. After experiencing bad luck, salt was thrown over the shoulder to hit the devil in the eye.

My favourite item was a gummy bear. The artists discussed the history of gummy bears, which originate in Germany in the 1920s. They noted how the gummy bear they had found was of a design first began in the 1960s.




The breadth of information and knowledge they presented was astounding. I loved how they tied everything they found to the location in which they were found: attempting to locate the origin of a wooden chip-shop fork by retracing the possible steps of its user, for instance.

The performance was fascinating to hear, revealing how our cities do not just encapsulate social history and georgraphies through their structures and architectures, but through everything, in the complete ephemera of any street, in any city, in any country.

Surf, roll, hop

I'm stealing an idea from troubled diva to follow blog links. So I follow my 6th link, then that blog's 6th link and so on until I become bored with it.

So.

My 6th link is Catchy Sounds of Sweden, an mp3 blog about Swedish music. 

The most recent article extols a new song by PAY TV, an amazing Swedish electro-pop tongue-in-cheek act who I saw perform just over a year ago at Contact. This is all very appropriate. PAY TV are amazing: great music mixed with witty, satirical lyrics. My favourite is from a song called Top Model, with one of the singers breathlessly whispering:

Smile
Shut Up
Pose
Throw Up

CSoS's 6th link leads me to the site of Swedish band Bodies without Organs (again, amazing). 

CSoS's 7th link is to From Russia, with Pop, written by the very ace Greg, who's leaving London on Thursday to live in Russia for a year. His latest post is about new Ukrainian pop band XS whose latest single seems to be about the hairstyle of Ukraine's former prime minister. Wow.

The next link leads me to Dirrrty Pop, written by Jessica. Jessica continually amazes me with her energy and talent. She writes numerous blogs with a wisdom which belies her youth. And she loves pop music, how more ace can she be. Jessica previews the 4 singles battling in the charts this week, with blogger protagonists fighting each corner. I'm with Jessica, picking the Scissor Sister's new song as my favourite. Can't wait for their new album too.

Onwards to Burning effigy of Candyland where Gareth is demanding that Lily Allen stop shouting her mouth off. I thoroughly agree. Although she'll always get kudos for rhyming "Tesco" with "al fresco" in LDN and the "no, go away, you're nawsty" line in "Knock 'em out".

Gareth's 6th link leads to the ace Indie Girl & Pop Boy. They've put together a mix CD of summer tunes, some of which look incredible.

On to a new-to-me blog Bright Lights // Neon Nites who have not updated all that recently. Still, they like Dannii Minogue, that can't be bad. Sadly no more links from here. 

Back to IG&PB's links, and The Bubble Death, another blog I've never seen before. I'm loving the masthead image and that's all I'll say about here. On to large-hearted boy, an mp3 blog with an unusual image. It seems a bit rawk. I'm getting out of here.

Onwards to The BM Rant, another blog with an eye-catching header image. Lots of videos on here, all of which seem American or indie. The 6th link out of there leads to Ben Garvey, a 27-year-old solo acoustic songwriter from the southern New Jersey / Philadelphia area. He's writing about Steve Irwin being killed by a stingray. 6th link here leads to James Cuartero, who plays guitar. I'm getting mildly bored now. On to Her Jazz, which has the word 'jazz' in the title, and so my interest fades.

So. That was interesting, wasn't it?

Sound walk

On Saturday last, I went for an electrical walk. Artist Christina Kubisch has developed headphones which detect electromagnetic fields and transmit them as sound signals. The wearer is free to go wherever they wish, wearing the headphones, although a map is helpfully provided. Kubisch says that "the “electrical walk” is not an event, rather it is a slow walk which might reveal what was unknown before."

I started from the Goethe-Institut where the headphones are collected. I walked towards Hyde Park, with an ever present hum in my ears. This hum rarely diminishes, and stays almost constant throughout the walk with the only changes being an intensification.

Outside the Austrian Trade Commission, the hum became very loud: hummmmmmmmmmmm
Outside residential homes, it became more insistent: hrurmrurmrurmrurmrurmrurmm

Passing cars zip by like wasps, with a high-pitched zzzzzing.

A bus was like a larger bee, with more another high-pitched but longer zzzzzzzzziiiiiiiiing.

The induction loop for hearing aids at Imperial College amplifies the sounds of the foyer, so everything sounds louder.

The lifts in The Science Museum have an LED screen to show the floors. When the screen changes, the headphone make a rattling noise: tsht-tsht-tsht-tsht

Television screens made a loud, incessant din: rnarrnarrnarrnarrnar

The hums became louder and lower in pitch near CCTV cameras: huuuuuuuhhhhhhmmmmmm

The security shields at the shop of the Natural History Museum make a harsh, staccatto sound: rat-a-tat-tat-tat-rat-a-tat-tat-rat-a-tat-tat-tat

I went to a tube station. Oyster card readers make a beep to our hears, but with the headphones this beep was harsher: zitzitzitzitzitzit

A tube train was a cacophony of noise.

I passed a traffic warden who made the headphones louder than any other person.

The whole walk was fascinating, for the very reasons Kubisch stated. The headphones reveal what is there but we cannot see, nor can we feel. The revelation of these electromagnetic fields is unsettling. The magnetics are ultimately not harmful, but what effects could they have on our bodies?

Hearing electromagnetics as sounds gives them with a physical sense. They become real, and are all around and invasive. The walker in a city is transformed from a free, strolling flaneur to an element within a greater forcefield, surrounded and followed by invisible boundaries.

More information on Christina Kubisch - Electrical Walks here.

Germany by Novala, Norway, Belgium by Alice

I've collected 3 further maps for my EuroGlobe project.

I asked Novala, a German woman living in Vienna, to draw Germany. She has a very interesting blog here.

I sent two letters to two addresses in Oslo, with envelopes and paper. One recipient has returned a map of Norway. This drawing is by either Erik or Joakim - I don't know which! Hopefully whomever it is will email me so I can attribute them correctly.

Finally, Belgium. Last weekend, I went to a Latin American carnival being held in South London with a vague notion of collecting country maps. I thought I'd maybe meet people from Colombia, Ecuador, Peru - all of which were strongly represented in the carnival. I eventually spoke to a man from Bolivia. I may have inadvertently annoyed him as he was from Santa Cruz, an area which has a growing autonomy movement. He didn't seem keen on drawing the map, but mentioned that the woman with him was from Belgium. So here, the result of a Latin American carnival is Belgium drawn by Alice