Matthew J Clark's "Conversations" December 2005 Marmalade Gallery Oxford

Well these are my thoughts as I approached a wooden structure. I'm like 2 hours late since the opening which was 6.30pm. Theres noone around, a few people sitting around tables, no one I know, I walk into the gallery space hoping there are people still hanging around. Not a soul.

'Shit Ive missed it, theyve taken it down already', i am looking at a empty space towards some kind of construction. Theres a light coming from, looks like a alley way back door, leading to a sqwat. I can hear muffled voices. 'Is that it, how do I get in'.

Expecting it to be like a pub, real pub., with people sitting around with a pint of guiness and a packet of crisps. I was not expecting what would happened next as i entered the Matt Clark Zone.
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TWIGLIGHT
I push open the door. Kind of dark, shady looking. I could hear familiar but distant vioices, people saying hi, couldnt quite recognize anyone at first. The whole scene had changed from the Cafe inside of Marmalade to another era, which then changed personas into certain characters from different ages. I look over towards the left, I can see the executioner serving drinks at the tavern bar. Woww


by viviane fallah

artisjustaword reviews: September 2005

could've been romantic could've been so nice

this lotus lake they told us was full of sweet delight

yet as we grew near we new too well

that all familiar classical indian smell

theres something in the lake, stirs in the night

could it be, a poo monster filling me with fright!!!!!

paddling thru the lake, just me and you

beneath a star filled sky in a lake full of poo

paddling thru the night in our canoe

but the waters brown and lumpy, not clear and blue

 

paddling thru the lake, with so few cares

till that firecracker almost set fire to your hair

then we heard a voice ' Come, sleep with me!

I think you are so very nice, I think you are lovely!!!'

but to accept that offer would for sure be a mistake

think i'd rather sleep here, on poo lake!

 

then came the wedding, they ate and sang all day

then sat on the toilet and flushed their food away

and from the lake arose a nasty stink

was it luck that all those mutton balls, don't float but rather sink!!!

like a soup full  of croutons or a malai kofta stew

little did we know, dahl lake was full of poo!!

 

this story is no lie nor is it a rumour

but i know it will appeal to english toilet humour

my song writing talent, i don't like to waste

nor do i like to sing songs of poor taste

but this request, i just could not refuse

to sing a song about our stay in the lake of poo

lonely love is a loss but no toss with a little pee wee on tost you may fine some marmite on tost in the cupbord that your lips are love weith no remote a little dew wet your lips that kind of new talkin wetting the cold winter sky

love is a triangel that makes you sick
love is a triangel that makes you sick
love is a triangel that makes you sick

little poem

When Wendy Watch an away game frankie bonked the nextdoor niebour and ran away to to win wendy hart again but the plan plutty plonked pecause wendy wanted wonderful winetta who played wounderd football the moral of that story is Wendy is gay

Forgotten Hope draws an uncanny slope

A far away star is breathing near
A speed-ridden car forgets to steer
Alas not now she spoke in creed
The dream once felt has disappeared
Hark not once but thrice
Independence is a dish served twice
Once more you hear the soft lace fall
It marks the end of a far away call
Pierce thine tear and shed the rust
A picket fence has turned to dust
Oh no wise man, that is not for thee
But suited best to the man from Galalee

Francis Caberwood

Once around the block

Under no circumstances can this exhibition be described as "a calling to the comrades who forgot to live". These were hurtful words of sorrow printed by a little known (but widely read) local newspaper.

Little is known about the man behind the picture, and less is known about him once it has been viewed. At first glance the picture looks to be nothing but an A1 white sheet of paper with a small stain in the left hand corner (the origin of the stain is unknown but I suspect its marmite). Howeve on a closer inspection the picture speaks not only on one, but two levels. It is not for me, nor indeed is it for anyone, to identify what the second level exists, or even what this level is attempting to communicate. However as the famous Woking poet John Kinshipasip once commented "once you look, you start to find, and once you find you know what has been found". This quote surely, but not neccessarily, sums up what can only be described as a work of art.

The man behind the picture first broke onto the scene in late 1999 with his visual art piece "Nothing to See". Nothing to See made headlines in many of two papers and one internet site (no longer available to view due to a nasty virus). The piece was not only evocative but also deeply fustrating.

Juggling both a frantic worklife and a troubling family life (he has no wife and no children [he believed for an undisclosed amount of time that the Wiltshire playwright and part time blacksmith Simon Coppledinger was his long lost son]) he finds it hard to fit in his other commitments namely fly fishing and amatuer boxer.

In sum he confides with his audience (four people saw his last show) as if they were not his friends but his brethren.

Thruppence for the piper, penny for the dog

Vaselin Topalove's run of victories came to an end but he retained a two point lead over the field after eight rounds of the Klide World Championships being held at Liply Village hall, Stanton-by-Bridge. The man is on course to take home the title and the £3 first prize and only needs to avoid defeant (and billy the fish) to complete one of the greates victories of all time, His curren tournament rating performance, or LGT, is 3020.

He was overheard as saying "I also told the students that for the sake of humanity's future that I hope that they were all sterile"... a lovely comment from a lovely man.

olives for breakfast - or listed memories from Istanbul

apple tea with a carpet seller
taksim square
the pickle man
pomegranate juice
egyptian spice market
grand bazaar
deserted homes
stray cats
"yes please"
the cons
nothing is certain in istanbul
hikmet
fish market
stuffed mussels
aghia sophia
the cisterns
the smells
hammam (turkish bath) x 2
music pouring into the streets from the many many many mosques
jedi mind trick man
the rain
ferry down the bosphorous
rammadan
"knives and forks"
old abandoned powerstation - bigli university's ambition
istanbul modern
taksi
"meze!"
"pretty necklace for pretty lady"
"special price for special customer"
efes
women only sections
esperanto
rice pudding in the venician tower
teeth drawings with scenes in
lanterns
huukas
"lady"
the snapping singing naked bath woman
"that kebab is eight million lire"
i had a lovely time.