World of Streetcomber - #3 the mighty Kenwood Chef

What we have in WOS this week is a Kenwood Chef A701. This,as all kitchen buffs will know, is the creme de la creme of the mixer world. Forget the Kitchenaid, forget the Sunbeam, forget the Moulinex; the Kenwood is where it's at. Well having said that it's really the older ones made between 1950 and the mid 70s - the 700, 701 and 901 series-that are the desirable models. These were built before the idea of planned obsolesence was developed and so were overengineered to the nth degree making them pretty much indestructable.And thus they are sought after and almost immortal .

So why is this in WOS, you are asking. Surely it couldn't have been streetcombed? 
But you would be wrong mon copain de cuisine.Because it was. And even more amazingly, you might be staggered to know, it was found with a twin.Yes,that's right;  two Kenwood Chefs sitting in the middle of a pavement in the municipal district of Tooting. 
Obviously they had been fly tipped by some unscrupulous house clearer who had no idea how truly versatile and long lived they are. Luckily I came across them before any sharp suited modernist who might have despatched them to a dark and oily fate in a landfill site, and having brought them home to the stately house of bear,I got them up and running in no time.And since then they have made many cakes, batters and, thanks to the wonder of the dough hook, breads and chapatis.Long live the Kenwood!

Bear and the @rt of rafting

Ahoy there blogmates! This week Homepride man, his sons Homey and Maloney and their little pal Piglet decided to take a rafting holiday on Tooting Common pond. 
When I saw them off they were cruising happily on their way to the bird sanctuary in the middle of the lake. But then, disaster! The wind turned sou' westerly and blew them off course into a remote and inaccessible part of the lake. There they were grounded, on a spit of land that I could not reach. Imagine my agony knowing that my mates were so near and yet so far. In need of help that I could not give them.
The last time I looked, about three days later, there was no sign of Homepride man or piglet or Maloney, but Homey was looking fat and healthy. Could it be dear reader, no don't think it....could it be that in his delirium and distress Homey had killed and eaten his shipmates? Or could it be that the three matelots had staggered off in search of help and are now wandering blind and exposed around the mud-slathed middens of the Common, searching in vain for a friendly face or someone who at least speaks their language - Finnish. 

We may never know. All I can wish for is that one day I will open my kitchen cupboard doors and there will be their smiling, flour and dirt splattered faces beaming up at me and asking 'When can we go again?'.And I shall wish reader, I shall wish with all my heart.

Due to secret public demand (i.e. nobody has asked for it but I know that secretly they want to see more) I am posting further examples of bear art.Again all these things were 'installed' on Tooting Common. 
The bags contain figures of Homepride man (which pic 1 shows was left on the floor of a glade)and Wallace of Aardman animation fame (which pic 2 shows was hung from
a tree). As we can see from the photos they were each holding a banner stating their predicament.

There is also an old Swiss bell telephone that was nailed to a tree (later smashed to pieces by some Swissophobe) and a Mickey Mouse novelty number, which was left at the side of a popular jogging path with a banner urging the 'citizens' to 'keep on rollin''.

The log with the mirror inserted was hung from a leaf shrouded branch where it twirled with the wind and flashed occasionally as the sun reflected off the mirror (so attracting the inquisitive mind, who later took it home with them).The wood bore the message 'there you are' because if you were looking into it you were,indeed, 'there'. 
I nailed several clocks to several trees - each of the clocks bore a different label identifying them - one was Todd, one was Obama, one was Scott and another one was Randy - each label carried a personal message from the bear. 
Todd, who was screwed to a Silver Birch - remained in position for well over a year - something of a record for bear@rt and Obama was later smuggled into Tate Modern where he was slipped into one of the installations (the one with all the beds and books).

Bear art

Over the past couple of years the Bear has been leaving, or 'installing' if you will, random objects on Tooting Common and other places in London. 
Sometimes as you will see from the picture it's a little man with a message. At other times, things - clocks, old telephones, wooden penguins, paintings, etc have been attached to trees and other art 'stations'. The aim of Bear @rt is to take people by surprise by leaving something that causes them to look twice. The intention is that it will amuse (or irritate, if they're so uptight that they can't take a joke) people and maybe inspire them to install some art of their own in a public space.

Bear becomes priest

Hi everybody. Just to let you all know that today I was officially ordained as a Dude-ist priest - a representative of The Church of the Latter Day Dude (if you're confused ref The Coen Brothers' The Big Liebowski or enter Dudeism in Google). So if any of you want any advice about slackerism or wish to get married in 'certain US states -and other parts of the world', I'm your man. Remember the Dude's code 'Take it easy. Do nothing'.

World of Streetcomber #2

Oi, who nicked my Lucida font?Don't like this one as much but seems that choice has been limited now to six or seven. Boo. Not happy. 
Anyway, more from the Streetcomber archives. I recently found this nifty little tiled table ( made in Denmark so could be G-Plan style fans) lingering in a lonely and lost fashion at the entrance to an industrial estate in Tooting. So whisked it up and brought it home. It has now become a beast of burden (as is the fate of all tables) and supports our Cornish pottery lamp through thick and thin. What a team they are.

So there you go freegans, keep 'em peeled and who knows what you might find. 
By the way. That figure in the mirror? That's my evil twin. He must never be released from the mirror. Never. Do you understand? NEVER!

Boot sale bargain of the week

And another week has gone by and more items of previously-loved flotsam and jetsam have been added to the itinerary of the stately House of Bear.
To wit; Anglepoise lamps in stereo, a fine little folding table, a cute little plant pot holder and several pieces of rounded vinyl known to many as 'records'. Chief amongst these were Kraftwerk's Autobahn and Roxy Music's debut (of which the cover alone is worth the price of admission). But hold.There is more. Please observe 'Loving and Free', by Kiki Dee. On the cover of this the doe-eyed chanteuse is draped in clothing -high waister, patch-pocket bellbottoms, cheesecloth blouse and painted clogs - dragged straight from the pages of Jackie magazine (those of you under the age of 45 should ask your mother, sister, aunt about Jackie - which was 'legend' and Kiki, who sadly was not, except to my girlfriend Nicky and her friend Sarah).
But above and beyond any of these was a rather fantastic Formica-topped table which I picked up at breezy old, rain-lashed Brighton today. This small but perfectly formed apparatus comes complete with hatched, salmon-pink top and a compact cutlery drawer suitable to house all manner of utensils. Furthermore it has a makers label on the bottom which tells that it was manufactured in East Germany by steadfast hero- worker (First Class) hans ... or it could've been Dieter or maybe Wolfgang.Anyway it is a thing of beauty and I shall sleep with it tonight. God bless the Eastern bloc.

Fizz in Feb

I was looking through some old photos today and I came across this one. It is of my beautiful little Yorkie-cross bitch Fizz and was taken on Monday February 9 2009. Those of you with sturdy memories may recall that that was the day when it snowed heavily in London and left the streets inches deep in the white stuff. As you can see Fizz, who had just come back in from the garden, seems to be wearing a pair of moonboots that look as if they could have been created by Courreges, but were in fact the result of the sticky, newly settled snow clinging to her long leg-hairs. You may also remark that her head seems to be missing from this photo. That is correct. But don't worry readers, we found it later and reattached it using candlewax and tin foil.
Apart from that what I will always remember about that day was how happy everyone was. In Balham the streets and green spaces were thronged by hundreds of grinning people who, because the unexpected down fall of La Neige had totally disabled our creaking transport system, had seized the opportunity to take a day off work and replace their usual daily grind with sorties to Tooting Common where they would create snowmen and throw snowballs at their offspring.
Being short of the latter, Nicky and I went to Trinity Stores, that bastion of civilization and all things yummy, where we had tea and cakes to the accompaniment of choral music. The latter, which may well have been Handel's Messiah, made it feel like gentle Jesus' birthday. So much so that in my mind at least Feb 9 2009 will go down as the best Christmas Day I ever had.
If I were ever to become Prime Minister, and it could happen with a little bit of effort and a lot of bribery, I would decree that at least once a year the streets of London should, in the absence of the real thing, be sprayed with fake snow and everyone would take the day off. What a fantastic blow for slackerdom that would be.

W-from Woodentops to Worm

Last Friday night I went to the Queen Elizabeth Hall on London's Southbank to see a friend of mine, Ed Lovechocolate, playing in his circuit bending electro-eclecto band Worm. Circuit bending, in case you didn't know, is a radical way of making music from sounds taken from the circuit boards of Speak and Spell machines and other such bedrocks of modern music as Casio keyboards. Apparently, once these circuits are reassembled in alien bodies, you're never quite sure what noises are going to come out of them: could be something that sounds like white noise, could be a spooky voice, could be the sound, of, well, a circuit being bent. Whatever it is though it's very interesting and atmospheric especially when teamed with a trombone, a sax player, a bass player and a drummer playing a drum machine with his hands rather than sticks. At times it felt like you were grooving along a New York waterfront with a sea fret muffling the distant, hub and thrum of the city while the calls of strange anonymous creatures and fog horns occasionally pierce the gathering river-mist. At others you could have been in a basement in 1970s Berlin with Krautrock bands such as Neu rehearsing next door.
There is no guitar or (human) vocals in tonight's incarnation of Worm, but who knows next time there could be; that's the beauty of this outfit they play only by their own rules. If you're looking for something unpredictable, individual, ambient yet cutting edge, jazzy tinged, electro but occasionally funky, then check 'em out. They'll be playing somewhere near you soon.
Afterwards, thanks to the largesse of said Mr Chocolate, who surprised us with free tickets, Nicky and I toddled off a few yards toward the river where we witnessed the return of The Woodentops.
Now anyone over thirty may remember The Woodentops from the mid-eighties when as a five piece led by the diminutive but hugely charismatic Rolo McGinty, they had a certain amount of indie chart success with their debut album Giant and singles such as Well,Well,Well, Love Affair With Everyday Living, and Good Thing. Thirtysomethings may also recall that after the ill-received follow up album Woodenfoot Cops on the Highway, The 'Tops faded from view somewhat.
But now they're back with three fifths of the original line-up of McGinty, Frank De Freitas Bass), Simon Mawby (lead guitar) plus new drummer Paul Ashby and new keyboardist Aine O'Keeffe,and more of that million-mph, but relentlessly melodic, indie-rush and tumble, that once had them christened by me, at least, as 'The fastest band in the West'.
So what did we get for our money (yeah I know we got free tickets but phrases should be regularly coined otherwise they'll die)? Well quite a lot actually. Accesorized to the crystal-meth chord work, raging rhythms (Paul Ashby, how do you do it? Are you in fact bionic?) and Rolo's plaintive vocals we get a wall of sound that approaches and eventually surpasses anything that that ol' jail bird Phil Spector could've mustered up even in his hayday. In amongst the build and crescendo Mawby spat out rippling lead lines as McGinty riffed righteously and joyfully over O'Keefe's inventive, po-going, keyboards. Mixing new with equal amounts of old the set list satisfied past appetites while making the mouth water for what's to come.
All in all a fantastic gig. If you get the chance to see the 'tops take it. You won't regret it even though your ears might be ringing for a few hours afterwards.

Biggest Lava Lamp in the Universe

Well,ok, maybe not the Universe. But certainly Earth (as we know it Jim). I found this beauty in an auction in North Yorkshire earlier this year. It cost me the princely sum of £8. Including its base it stands about 3 foot tall and has three distinct stages to its up and down swellings. First, it begins as a sort of botanical exhibit, but gradually, after about an hour, it turns into some sci-fi scene in which the main body of wax forms a poddish sort of mothership which smaller pods continually attach and detach to and from. It's weird because the wax in its pod form has a sort of pattern on it, which I have never seen before in lava-land. After a good few hours of this it settles down into an amorphous blob which sits at the bottom of the bottle while tiny bits of plankton like material float up and around in its cobalt blue liquid. Set phasers to stun, Scotty!

Even more Upcycling

A couple more Upcycling ideas from the House of Bear.
These enamel liquid measures - actually 3 of those, plus one salt holder - were pretty hopeless around the house. There wasn't room in the kitchen to hang them on the walls and they couldn't stand up on their own, being legless and round bottomed, so for months they were sent into internal exile in a comfortless box in the cellar. But then, one day, hurrah! a brain wave was had and they were rescued from their damp exclusion and attached to the sunny, south facing, wall of our extension and duly planted up with, er, well, plants. This was greeted with much joy by the enamels and they have been happy with their botanical charges ever since (yes, I know these plants don't look too healthy now. But believe me during the summer they were thriving). Enamels are especially good for this kind of task because they each have a spout which allows for free draining, meaning they don't get waterlogged.

Boot sale buys of the week

Boot sale buys of the week are: A rather nifty ceiling shade in plastic and perspex - big step up from the wicker number that used to occupy the spot.
Two pretty little nightlight holders - seem to be wax designs painted on glass, but not sure- very simple, very effective, very retro.

The World of Streetcomber

The World of Streetcomber is a place where people can display anything that they've found on the street,in a skip or generally anywhere it can be taken away for free and used around the house. Over the years I have found many things in my street, for a start there are lots of houses and millions of cars....no but seriously folks. Okay so here's the first post; a very nice Anglepoise lamp.
If you'd like to contribute to W O S e-mail a picture and a bit of info to graybear@sky.com and I'll add it in.

Continuing with the Upcycling theme, as sponsored by givemeonegoodraisin.blogspot.com, here is a Baby Burco that I adapted as a water butt.
What is Baby Burco? I hear you say; well Baby Burco was a very early washing machine which was basically just a tub with a plug. You would fill with water, then switch on and marvel as said H2O atoms wiggled and jiggled themselves into a boiled up frenzy. Then you would add clothes and torture them with abrasive soap powder and wooden tongs until they came clean. The Burco was bought for 50p from a bootsale, but having no wish to harass articles of soggy clothing I turned it, with the help of a piece of washing machine pipe, a funnel and some gaffa tape, into the magnificent water collecting specimen it is today.
The small table you can see was built from the bones of a bed frame and then painted with an old piece of blue sky that I found in the road and liquidised. It is a sturdy little chap and can be sat upon, stood upon and generally put upon.

This is a piece of bear@rt (as is my little Homepride man at the top of the page - he is like a mini-installation who has been left on Tooting Common at various times holding a placard with a message from the bear. He has also been inserted into exhibitions at the Tate modern, where on one occasion he was dragged off kicking and screaming by a burley security guard for carrying a sign saying 'Create your own art' - obviously too subversive a concept for a bastion of artistic freedom such as the Tate). It is also a piece that I intend to transfer to my good friend Shannon at give me one good raisin to include in her 'Upcycling' section.
The box, originally an ammunition box was found naked and shivering without even a coat of paint to keep it warm in the attic of a house that I moved into in 1989 in Balham. For a while I kept it warm but failed to clothe it, and it was content, but rather embarrassed at being left continually naked for all to see. But then one day, having no canvas to speak of but a hell of a lot of newly acquired acrylic paint to use, I decided to dress it.
And so I did: initially I just added the blue coat and left it at that. But box was not happy. It wanted more, so a flock of gold finches and two parakeets were added to its lid and a pair of Shelducks to its front elevation. When it was finished both artist and canvas were surprised at how well it turned out. And that was it. Box and man were, just like ye olde American beat group The Turtles, happy together and have remained so ever since. Box now lives in my bedroom and guards all manner of miscellaneous crap within its pink interior. It's a quiet life, but a happy one.
PS when I painted this box there were no Parakeets living wild on Tooting Common. Now there are millions. Could there be any connection?

New psychedelia -two hot ones

Currently wiggin' out big time in the car -on CD (boo) because haven't got it on vinyl yet - to Assemble Head In Sunburst Sound's, Kolob Canyon. Swirling updrafts of glissando guitar rise lark- like to blue sky vocals. Lyrics swoop and dive across the azure but remain indecipherable. But who cares what the words say, it's the tune wot matters.And this toon matters in the extremis, it's one of the most exciting pieces of music I ve heard for a long time. Catch it if you can. It's trippy man!
Also on the new psychedelic tip Wooden Shjips (love that extraneous 'j' guys) with Down By The Sea - if you have a fondness for music that hypnotises this is the track for you. The locomotive rhythm section, unwavering from start to finish, provide a dense, opiated drive over which strangled shaved-steel guitar lines upswell to a glorious, breaching, cacophony of spastic-spasm spumes of psychotropic abandon (Pseuds-Corner, I am available). More of this sort a ting, I say.
At home, using my newly acquired Bang and Olufsen 4600 (£10 from the boot sale) to re-explore some synth sounds from the eighties. Fad Gadget's Fireside Favourites currently playing and I'm enjoying the retro-glow as it takes me back to my daze in Brighton when I first heard Insecticide and the album's title track . Also been taking late night respite with side two of Eno's Before & After Science. So simple, so subtle so sublimely innocent.

Tomorrow it's an early start with Wimbledon boot sale. Who knows what goodies I'll find there tomorrow? Nobody that's who - because how could anyone know unless they were a time traveller or from a parallel universe or God. Last Wednesday got a nice little bagful of tricks - a thermal jug, a fantastic little socket set from like the year dot, a wooden tray that clamps on the arm of a chair, or the head of a lackey if you have that sort of lifestyle, a nice plant/pan stand in cast iron, a guitar foot-stall (according to my girlfriend Nicky) and a little little mustard jug carrying the legend 'I improve everything'. I shall despatch it on a tour of Afghanistan and other trouble spots immediately. Then we'll see, whether it's a hollow boast or, indeed, Jesus returned in pot form. I may well post pictures of these items. If I'm feeling devilish.