Leigh Bowery is chasing me. Not content with haunting my childhood, he’s following me around in my twenties as well.
A couple of days ago I went to see the Michael Clark Company’s mmm…. at the Barbican. Michael Clark is endlessly referred to as a “former enfant terrible of dance,” because his shows in the 1980’s used to have overtones of sex, and frequently nudity. And I was aware that Leigh designed many costumes for Clark in the 80’s, and even appeared on stage in a couple of shows. [Read more →]
I’ve always been disappointed by clubbing. Now, I’m not instinctively a club person - I mostly like music with guitars in, I prefer beer to class A’s, and I start to flag at about three on the usual night out. The club world swam into my consciousness in around 1994, via my brother’s obsession with jungle; but no sooner had I become aware of this strange world, than Britpop broke and carried me along with it. Life became a blur of collarless shirts, sideburns and Sovereigns, middle-class parents suddenly bemused by their violin-playing darlings’ newfound interest in pool and darts. [Read more →]
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