Spitfires and the art of the passing moment

Smell can be the most potent sense, bringing forgotten moments instantly back to mind, and few things from my childhood seem as vivid as the antiseptic reek of polystyrene cement. It transports me to a table spread with newspaper, the tube of glue poised at one edge, bulbous at the nozzle with the thick liquid... Continue Reading →

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Brutal truths

I caught part of a recent BBC Wales profile of Karl Jenkins, perhaps the most commercially successful “classical” composer of our times. I feel I must put in these inverted commas because the genre is not an easy one to talk about: it denotes broadly a world of virtuosity and rigour, a world of demanding... Continue Reading →

Art and difficulty

A recent piece in the Guardian newspaper asked whether smartphones were killing the art of photography. Central to its argument (for and against) was the idea that smartphones represent a “democratisation” of the art form. This argument has been made in other areas, most obviously in relation to music, where it’s been claimed that software... Continue Reading →

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