dovegreyreader scribbles

dovegreyreader hits the pages of Vogue...

I just have to interrupt Dublin for a moment to tell you about a real first, we are in the October edition of Vogue.
Yes, really...
Well sort of.
My thanks to Cathy St Germans for sending me this because I have to confess I'm not a regular Vogue reader, but in the feature about this year's Port Eliot Festival, there it is, in all its glory and I've helpfully arrowed it for you.
Our Flower Show installation.

Don't miss...

... Badaude's fabulous take on the Port Eliot Flower Show.
Badaude sat next to me in the press tent and I had a sneaky et envious watch of her drawing and now I'm really sorry I missed her exhibition in the basement.
Her artistic skill is immaculate perfection unsurpassed, especially compared to mine which hasn't really developed into anything much since I was about six years old.
I also saved her from a fate worse than anything else by pointing out that the grape poised near her elbow harboured a wasp ready to sting and which would probably have taken out that drawing arm for at least a week.
I'm sure you have me to thank for this drawing really.

Port Eliot: Sunday

MLLE. FROMAGE and OFFSPRINGETTE: It's only taken the whole week to wake up, but here's how we chose to finish up Port Eliot 2010:

The sun came out for us on Sunday in St. Germans and created a lovely vibe all over the festival (in a way that only sunny days in England can). Offspringette and I near on stalked Anna Sui before her talk in the Flower Show - which, annoyingly was then moved to 5pm, to stand in for Anna Pavord who had broken her ankle prior to the weekend. Having to make the crucial decision to opt for Jarvis Cocker’s Sunday Service over Anna Sui was a toughie but I’m certainly glad we made it.

Jarvis Cocker was at complete ease on stage, although he shared with the audience that it was his first live radio broadcast - both with or without an audience, so for that alone it was worth being a part of it. He started off with the perfectly apt ‘Read It In Books’ by Echo and The Bunnymen, and through sticking to his usual features he took us through ‘On This Day’ and a selection of entertaining interviews with performers from the festival, including Marcus Coates, Chris Watson, Wilko Johnson and Bill Drummond. Sprinkled in between these often unpredictable interviews (Wilko!), Jarvis played tracks related to the ‘On This Day’ theme - it’d been 40 years since Bob Dylan’s decision to ‘go electric’, which apparently had incited a riot at the time. However, it did not incite a riot at Port Eliot - even after we were played Acoustic Dylan followed by Electric Dylan.

One of the highlights of Jarvis’ set, was a live performance from a strange apparently-inspired-by-medieval-England three piece Princes In The Tower - quirky music and outfits that would put even Offspringette and I on a level with Anna Sui.

Having to tear ourselves away from the Sunday Service was painful, we were however, completely compensated by The Leisure Society who worked especially hard to make our afternoon enjoyable. It was indie folk to dance for, and I was especially impressed by the multi talented violin/ukulele/tambourine player, and the flute/ukulele/guitar player - this section of the band really added depth, and were astonishing in the fluidity of their instrument changing!

After a quick Noodle Bar visit, it was back off to meet Dovegreyreader and to be roped into designing our own book covers, I’m pretty confident that Offspringette’s creative abilities shone through here, but you decide for yourselves:

 

Over, and, Out.  

Thoughts on Grayson Perry...

It's possibly ( to my uncertain knowledge) the first time dovegreyreader scribbles has been linked to by a cross dressing website and I feel the moment shouldn't pass by unnoticed.
Port Eliot still whirring around in my mind, as it will do for weeks to come, and in particular the whole Grayson Perry thing which had passed by on the periphery of my consciousness until now, something happening in London to which I had paid little attention.
We can be a bit cut off from reality down here in the West Country and it would indeed stop the traffic and probably cause a few accidents were Grayson to walk down the street, but somehow not at all unusual at Port Eliot, and there's something intriguing about it all.
Of course transvestites not unknown in Devon, indeed, in the days when health visitors visited across the age spectrum of patients registered at the GP surgery they were attached to, I took a referral from a GP and had the pleasure of visiting a particularly glamorous man who had modelled his look on a 1960's film star whose name he had taken too. His make-up always immaculate but living out his lonely last days in chronically poor health, poverty and isolation in a woodland caravan with just a dog for company.
I got to know him/her really well and even found myself popping into the WI clothing store to pick up clothes on his/her behalf in the days when we did helpful things like that too. We'd made a wish list and I'd been careful to check colour preferences etc and caused quite a stir the day I asked for a salmon pink dressing gown, preferably with some lace frills, to fit someone 6ft 5" tall, and could they possibly help me with a pair of ladies, knee-high winter boots (with extra calf room) in a size 14.
It occurred to me how effectively Grayson Perry blasts away stereotypes and demolishes personal prejudices with his style whilst equally I discover on  reading up, elicits fierce responses..

"...recently a man in the street called him a paedophile: “It’s interesting how that is now the nuclear weapon of insults. The soundbite of the venal hater.”

If ever anyone spots a paedophile element it's the health visitor in me and I have to say it was the very last thought that would have come into my head. The whole look is almost like an art form on legs regardless of any personal reasons ceramic artist Grayson Perry may have for adopting his alter ego Claire when he feels so inclined, and the dresses are mind-blowingly clever designs, though interesting to read Grayson's own take on it

"In the past seven years, I have changed from dressing as a woman to being a man in a dress. I am not pretending to be a woman any more. I am a man who is wearing the most ridiculous outfits."

They are utterly gorgeous creations, what better frock to wear to a Flower Show awards ceremony than this one and beautifully made I discovered as I tried to get a good look without invading his personal space. I had to stop myself having a feel of the fabric, but curtain weight I think and it occurred to me that I was probably getting a glimpse of an iconic dress exhibition of the far distant future... when people will queue for hours, much as they have for the Grace Kelly collection from the thirties, to see the wardrobe of a man's frocks from the noughties.

Diane Athill at Port Eliot...

If ever you think you might be too old to come to a festival like this just change your mind and come next year.
If Diane Athill can manage it in her nineties there really are no excuses.
It's fascinating listening to people talking as they walk around. I keep hearing...'We're going to come to this every year now' and I'm not surprised, a fantastic family atmosphere around the main events and a wonderful variety ranging from much quieter and more reflective, to performance art up in the Walled Garden.
Spontaneous 'happenings' just break out all over the place.
I've done the Noodle Kitchen for lunch and it'll be The Orangery for tea in a minute before I catch Craig Taylor's Million Tiny Plays followed by Fisherman's Friends, the Cornish singing fishermen.
Never a dull moment.
I caught the start of Diane Athill's reading with elevenses in the Persephone corner, this year a finely decked out marquee. Persephone will be publishing Diane's collection of short stories in the spring, more to look forward to and Diane, in competition with a microphoned performance across the way, insisted on standing up so that her voice would carry...which it did.
Incredible.

Talking of fashion...

Grayson's out and about in his awesome Sunday finery... I'm really intrigued, he had a quilt in the V&A exhibition, I must find out more.

Justine Picardie meets Coco...

Oh my word is there a treat in store with Justine Picardie's forthcoming biography of Coco Chanel. I know as much about fashion as I do about quantum physics truth be told, and must confess to a limited interest in the subject, but that's all changed now and what better way for it to change than with an in depth look at the life behind that little black dress.

Justine spoke in the exquisite setting of the Flower Show marquee, and me perched next to the bookish exhibit depicting Patrick Suskind's Perfume, with its bright-eyed mackerel of Friday now reeking, but I held my nose and was enthralled as the life of surely the world's most iconic fashion figure was laid out before us.

In her own inimitable style Justine has researched in depth, ploughed her way through dusty archives, stayed in convents, worked in Coco Chanel's Parisian apartment and generally immersed herself in a cloud of Number 5 to bring Chanel to life and I now can't wait to read the book. As you'd expect there are moments of great sadness, and apparently a very interesting war to recount and the book will contain 400 pictures, many discovered in private archives and never seen before...we had a little preview, Coco intimately acquainted with some very influential and wealthy figures here in the UK.
Justine and I have something very special planned for here nearer to publication date but meanwhile meet Coco the dog-in-a-handbag also in attendance.

and Coco was of course introduced to Justine.

Saturday Pick: Trevor Moss and Hannah Lou

OFFSPRINGETTE: Well, it turned a little bit soggy last night as we made our way from the Falafel stand (or was it Moroccan, or was it Spanish?) over to Caught By The River for an evening of musical hijinks. There is literally so much going on at Port Eliot, it would be impossible to cover everything, so we've decided to pick out our favourite act from last night as our focus:

Trevor Moss and Hannah Lou are a husband and wife duo who channel the Appalachian folk tradition at its finest. One microphone, two guitars and a harmonica is all it takes to transport us into their world. "The Allotment Song"  in particular really stood out as a charming retelling of one man's routine in his garden. As budding gardeners (sorry) ourselves, it was a delight The thing we liked the most about this pair, aside from their obvious fingerstyle talent, was the fun they had. Their chemistry was captivating and had we not had to move it along, we'd have stopped by the Rough Trade (where Fromage lost quite a lot of impulse money) tent for their signing. 

Today, we are planning on visiting Ana Sui and Tim Banks at the Flower Show, hoping to pick up some fashion tips as we are truly unfashionable people, then it's off to the Caberet to catch a bit of Jarvis Cocker's Sunday Service, recorded live for BBC 6 Music. Before we leave tonight, we're going to dash to Caught By The River for The Leisure Society and we're going to round everything off with a dose of The Book Club Boutique Band, appropriately enough!

Just caught sight of Dovegreyreader, she says Justine was fantastic. Expect more news on this soon!

We're off to design our own book covers in the Biba tent...

In Two Places At Once: Justine Picardie

OFFSPRINGETTE: Good morning all, I present to you the guest blog so kindly provided by Justine Picardie. I can tell you that she produced this despite my little skate-related computer playing up. At this very moment, Justine is giving a no doubt fantastic talk over at the Flower Show on her latest book on Coco Chanel, with a rapt audience containing none other than dearest mother. It felt like the right time, then, to give you a little insight into how Justine's Port Eliot is going:

"Here I am at Port Eliot, revived after a cup of tea and slice of shortbread with dovegreyreader. Am grappling with an unfamiliar computer, so forgive my mistakes. Just done my first event – with Nicholas St Aubyn, author of a new novel about an old yet previously untold story (Custom of the County, a Tudor treasure hunt set in Cornwall. We talked about how fragments of history can be woven together into a novel – so I was back in Du Maurier territory, two years after coming to talk about ‘Daphne’ here at Port Eliot. The perfect setting – the Round Room inside the big house – and an intelligent audience, as is always the case at this festival.

Back tomorrow to do my first bit of publicity for my new book, which is a biography of Coco Chanel. I’ll be showing pictures that have been hidden away in the archives for decades, and am feeling slightly nervous at the prospect – how can I talk at the same time as negotiating a power point presentation thingy? Still, it’s going to be in another lovely venue – Michael Howells’ flower show, which is appropriate, as I’m talking about Chanel’s use of the camellia in her fashion iconography. Will also be putting Chanel into the context of her longstanding links with England and quintessential British style (tweed, gentlemen’s tailoring, woollen jumpers).

Anyway, hope to see some old friends here, and make new acquaintances as well. Here’s hoping for blue skies over St Germans, and just enough sunshine to make it another perfect day…"

Instances of the number seven...

Being quite firmly of the belief that canvas is for painting on not sleeping under, I have eschewed the glories of the campsite and driven the fifteen miles home to a bath, bed and electricity (not necessarily in that order) and will be up bright and early tomorrow for Day Two, but I just had to share a picture of this Q&A session with author Alexander Masters talking to Sam Leith earlier this afternoon. Alexander is talking about his books Stuart - A Life Backwards and his latest on the life of mathematician Simon Phillips Norton.
I didn't catch it all, but trust me these two were talking completely seriously and intelligently about the books dressed like...well dressed like this.

It could only happen at Port Eliot which is what makes this festival so refreshing and full of surprises, you never know what you are going to see around the next corner / wall / forest / toilet block.
And here's a quick shot of all the events taking place at The Boat House, down on the banks of the River Lynher,

the same river that Sir Humphrey Repton famously "moved" when he landscaped the gardens because it was in the way....as you do.

Growing Alice's Flowers with Mary Keen.

The new edition of Five Dials online literary magazine happened live from the festival so if it's arrived in your inbox as it has in mine, Grayson Perry pressed the button and launched it on its way there.
Then time for a cup of tea and a slice of apple and almond cake in the beautiful setting of the Port Eliot Orangery to the accompaniment of a string quartet.

Back to my bench in the Flower Show marquee for Mary Keen talking about Alice Oswald's flowers and introduced by Cathy St Germans.

The gardener's outnumbered the poets so Mary geared her talk towards horticulture but interspersed with recordings of Alice Oswald reading several poems from Weeds & Wildflowers.
It was good to hear Mary endorse the Rambling Rector, a vigorous climbing rose that we have had in abundance and which I love, but which Bookhound chops down when I'm not looking, claiming risk of structural damage. Yes, he's right, it will take a roof off apparently.
Still that Rector undaunted and resilient returns year on year.
The secret of all cultivation seems to be about knowing your soil and I have to admit I'm not that well-acquainted with ours, not its consistency, nor its acidity.The next secret is to get mud on your hands, which I don't really like doing either, but it was good to hear that both Mary and Alice share a love of the snowdrop and magical to then hear Alice reading that poem...

A pale and pining girl, head bowed, heart gnawed,
whose figure nods and shivers in a shawl
of fine white wool, has suddenly appeared
in the damp woods, as mild and mute as snowfall.
She may not last. She has no strength at all,
but she stoops and shakes as if she'd stood all night
on one bare foot, confiding with the moonlight...

Festival Fashion...

I hope you're keeping up, just catching you up with festival fashion and what you will be seeing on the catwalks this season.
The Biba tent is heaving with people waiting to be kitted out by the wonderful Barbara Hulanicki, they are working flat out in there.

It's a trademark of the festival to walk around in shiny silver, absolutely everyone's kitted out ready to be roasted. My thanks to this model who agreed to have her picture syndicated across the dovegreyether just so you can all go and get the Bacofoil out and make a start on your outfits.

The Prizegiving & Grayson Perry...

Oh jolly good, I see Offspringette's stopped by, I'm just back from the Port Eliot Flower Show prize-giving and great excitement as the inimitable Grayson Perry was presenting books to each class winner... his frock quite a bit more interesting than mine.

I managed quick hugs with Cathy St Germans who declared our entries £$%&* brilliant and here's Cathy with international stage designer Michael Howells who designed the gorgeous flower show setting here.

First prize in the Great Novel class went to a magnificent take on Tennessee Williams The Glass Menagerie...subtitled The Grass Menagerie which also won Best in Show, very well deserved.
I've just bumped into Justine Picardie who is here to talk about her forthcoming biography of Coco Chanel which will be published in September, Justine will be back later to do a guest post and give us her take on the festival.
Next up a cup of tea before I catch gardener Mary Keen, mother of Alice Oswald, talking on Growing Alice's Flowers.

Offspringette and Mlle. Fromage checking in...

Just a quick post to let you know we're out there, trawling the paths of Port Eliot, looking to bring you images and our top festival finds! Our first discovery was a certain 'Flower Show', where we happened upon some rosettes...

 

Team dovegrey enters the Port Eliot Flower Festival...

...the installation is complete, we are entered and await judging tomorrow morning.
I've spent all day scouring gardens and hedgerows with my secateurs and in the end we had a pantechnicon-sized quantity of flora not unlike the Eden Project in scale. Add in three imaginations running wild and Bookhound, Offspringette and I have converted lots of your ideas into our Port Eliot Festival entries and I can't begin to tell you how much fun it has been cooking up this storm.

Talking of cooks we bumped into Hugh Fernley Eatitall Whitingstall as we walked in.
Our only mistake was to grab a quick siesta this afternoon ready for a leisurely set up this evening, quite forgetting that the holiday/ festival traffic would be terrible, and it was, but God was on our side again ... thanks RevCheryl, I'm sure you interceded. As we pulled up outside the winding queue at the pedestrian entrance, where we could unload our four buckets of floribundence, props, boxes of things that might be useful, lace curtains, a rhubarb forcer, a gravestone etc there was an us-sized parking space.
We sent Bookhound off to do the arrangement of weeds and I think we must all commend his floral artistry and thanks to Fran for the Hopkins' quote from Inversnaid, perfect. The elephant is a little local addition, being the emblem of the Eliot family.
 
and Offspringette and I set to on Great Expectations
So a few pics for you and brace for a weekend of madness ahead.
Offspringette has guest-blog access so between us we will bring you Port Eliot Festival live as it happens and I expect her friends will stop by here too, so apologies if it gets a bit noisy.
Hopefully I'll grab a few people to come and say a few words too, but meanwhile enjoy your flower show entries, remembering that this is Port Eliot where less might be more but in this case more is never enough... is this a first, an international blog entry?
Oh ever so very well done team dovegrey.

and a close-up of that sunflower...

and the triplets
and the mice eating the cake...

Thou shalt not covet...

...thy neighbour's flowers.
So is it wrong that every garden I walk past now has things in it that I want?
I've never suffered from flower envy before, it's an entirely new disease for me but the symptoms are proliferating and extending beyond neighbour's gardens, because have you noticed what nice flowers the council plant on roundabouts these days too.

So as I drove into town this morning I was even coveting the beautiful little cottage garden we left behind to live in the middle of this field, with a garden that reverts to type at the first excuse. I crawled past our old house and wondered whether planting the plants in the first place = 9/10ths of possession and whether I could walk in and claim a few sprigs back.
I had woken up at 6am thinking I need to see Issy, except that Issy and I have been out of touch for years despite the fact she only lives a few miles up the road, I can hardly ring up and say 'Er...how's your garden looking?'
But Issy is a real gardener and does have the most beautiful herbaceous borders ...just what we need.
So there I was gazing outside the flower shop thinking, I wonder if they'll lend me one of those rusty buckets for my weed arrangement, when someone tapped me on the shoulder and said 'Hiiiiiiiiii, long time no see'.
There is a God.
I went round to Issy's for a cup of tea this afternoon, and team dovegrey be of good cheer, we will go to the ball wearing more than a load of Ox-Eye Daisies, we can cut some gorgeous and symbolic things from Issy's garden on Friday for our arrangement, lots of seed poddy things as well.
I'm busy running round gathering in props as you suggest them for this installation (including the quest for a sunflower, thank you for that challenge Kevin)  so thank you all for your fabulous ideas, please keep them coming. I've spent a good while today writing your comments out onto cards to pin on the veil, which I hope can cope with the weight of our expectations.
Currently there's a mock up on the kitchen table which consists of an upturned wastepaper bin with a polystyrene lace pillow balanced on top to give us 24" backdrop height and all covered in an old quilt and draped around with the nicely yellowed lace.
I'm not sure why I thought I'd have time to read this holiday.

Pssst....The Port Eliot Festival Flower Show

If your name is Michael Howells or Cathy St Germans or Lady Boyd or Kitty Arden then please could you go and look at another blog ...you're judging this and it's secret.

Right, so I know I really should have asked you first, but there was no one here to save me from myself, it was a spur of the moment thing ...I've entered us (that's all of you, and me) collectively as 'dovegreyreader scribbles' in two classes in the Port Eliot Festival Flower Show.
This was on the assumption that collective imagination and inspiration from 185 countries around the world would help us to come up with some stunning ideas, which we (Bookhound, Offspringette and I) will then transform into entries.

I did check with Lady St Germans and have been reassured that this is not cheating, and that indeed there is much excitement about our entry... no pressure then.
Now the folly of this becomes apparent when I tell you I am not God's gift to flower arranging let alone the Constance Spry of the blog world, and right now the garden has Ox-Eye Daisies which smell vile, Rose of Sharon, Honeysuckle and not a lot more...but this is no ordinary flower show, this is the Port Eliot Flower Show. It won't matter if the Oasis is showing, normal rules of flower show etiquette don't apply, technical mastery and floral precision are thankfully not a pre-requisite, and though natural plant material must dominate, it's about imagination and a love of flowers.
We can think laterally and very creatively and cook up a real storm of an installation which may well veer into a terrible mess, but it's the taking part that counts.
So if you could get your thinking caps on we'd be very grateful...

I won't need too much help with with Class 8

"Hoe, Hoe, Hoe!" An arrangement of weeds not to exceed 18" in any direction.

But all suggestions welcome, I've got a container lined up but when is a weed a wildflower...I've located a plentiful supply of Rosebay Willowherb about a mile up the road for some colour, will that count?

It's Class 2 that is more of a challenge...

"In the Library" - An Arrangement of Flowers Depicting a Great Novel.
Not to exceed 24" in any direction. Props and drapes may be used. In fact, do not hold back. To be viewed from the front.

Now there's nothing more exciting than having four visiting Canadians, vibrant inspirational women all, you feed them a delicious cream tea (well done to Bookhound) and then you trap them in your book room and ask for ideas. In a flash CanadaGill came up with a brilliant suggestion for the book which we'll have to keep secret... so can you not tell anyone, we'll have to keep it under wraps, keep our powder dry, beware of pale imitations.
But we have great expectations about any ideas you might come up with and with some lateral thinking around the word 'expectations' suddenly we were brain storming and had it sussed.
I've developed the theme a bit further and picked up some old lacy net curtains in charity shop today which I'm going to tea dye, because I'm thinking Miss Havisham's veil as a draping backdrop, and what's the betting the very time I want white nets to go yellowy-brown they stay pristine.
Next I plan to pin our 'expectations' on to the veil. much as you pin your hopes on something, or lay them around and we've been looking at dictionary definitions.
The act of expecting.
Eager anticipation: eyes shining with expectation.
The state of being expected.
Something expected: a result that did not live up to expectations.
Prospects, especially of success or gain.

I'm wondering if you're getting the gist, if so all ideas for 'expectations' gratefully received and they can take the form of pictures or actual things that create a mood of expectation...so far they include
a half-knitted sock (has to be in there somewhere)
a sealed letter
a little parcel of books
a picture of the England football team (ha ha)
eggs
closed flower buds
seeds
caterpillar
various newspaper headlines
quotes from books
adverts for plastic surgery
a bus ticket

and I'm sure you can think of more, it can be as weird, whacky and wonderful as you like and if it's a picture and you want to email it to me please do, we'll put your name and location on it as the suggester or find a picture of it ourselves and print it off.
The flowers will have to be mainly the daisies (just pray they last until Friday which is setting up day) but with a Miss Havisham wedding bouquet look to them, so plenty going over to seed and there are a few foxgloves left...digitalis and all its poisonous connections with the heart, more lateral thinking about that jilted bride and there's plenty of ivy around. The Tinker has suggested that we arrange for it all to catch fire at the end of the show, I thanked him profusely for the idea, but said perhaps not.
I have a feeling this is going to end up looking more like a fusion of The Old Curiosity Shop and The Darling Buds of May but never mind, over to you, please do name your 'expectations.'