My 2016 in photos

Two thousand and sixteen promised us lots of futuristic things, but when they arrived, I got fed up of them pretty quickly. It seemed to be a year of hoverboards that didn’t hover, people doing selfies and strange orange-skinned men banging on incessantly. Photography is something good to hold onto. Photography can’t tweet at 3am.

Invisible Dot, King's Cross

Invisible Dot, King’s Cross

The invisible Dot, now sadly closed, was a fantastic venue for comics to warm up for new shows or for new acts to get a food on the ladder. I saw Sheeps, Liam Williams, Kieran Hodgson, Joseph Murpurgo and many more there. No round up of my year would be complete without it.

Algiers

Algiers

Algiers is a wonderful assault on the senses. Jasmine, herbs, spices, barbecued meat, diesel and industry all fight to capture your attention against the sounds of cars beeping and police blowing their whistles for a purpose barely fathomable. At once, you are in the Maghreb, the middle east in outlook if not geographically and with French signs everywhere, you feel like you’re in Europe. The other places we visited in Algeria were very different altogether. 

Timimoun

Timimoun

The Sebkha Circuit outside Timimoun was one of the most exciting things I have done in my travels. Getting to Timimoun itself was an adventure – after flying on a Turboprop for four hours into the Algerian Sahara, you land in a tiny airport and wait while the police do various things with your passport. Then you need to have a police escort to take you the ten minute drive to your hotel. Going on the Sebhka Circuit requires a police escort as well, but soon you forget them and their guns and focus entirely on the stunning beauty of the ksar (old castle) and the underground dwellings where people would store dates and seek sanctuary from the blazing sun. Even in April, the difference in temperature underground was significant. We were able to walk around the abandoned caves, drive across dunes, see our driver rescue the police escort when their 4×4 was stuck in the sand and have sand blown in our faces for an hour thanks to a mini-sandstorm.

Ghardaïa

Ghardaïa

The magical town of Ghardaïa exists thanks to an oasis. In fact, it is one of fiive hilltop settlements that have their own oasis to draw from. Ghardaïa has a relatively new town but the real draw is the ancient town, which you can only access with the help of a professional guide. Photography is permitted, but you are not allowed to photograph the women, dressed in a white veil with only one eye peeping out. They swap the eye in use around so they don’t end up ruining their vision. We stayed at what we assume was our guide’s summer house, which looks like something fresh out of Tatooine. On our second day there we were invited to a wedding, where men danced around, occasionally stuffing antique guns with gunpowder and firing them at the floor. We drank mint tea and shuddered at every gunshot.

Roros

Røros

In May I visited my friend Dave in Norway, and we went to the delightful small town of Røros. It was founded in 1644 and for 333 years was a hotbed of mining shenanigans when it wasn’t burning down. The town and mine seemed to be on fire a lot. Working in the mines would have been exhausting work, and the sub-arctic temperatures could hardly improve the moods of the workers, so the brightly coloured buildings of the town make perfect sense. There is a wonderful cluster of the oldest wooden buildings near the old copper mine. The copper works museum is full of artefacts and a model reconstruction of the works, showing men and horses deep underground. As ever, Norway stole my heart with its good looks and charm.

Tate Modern

Tate Modern

In the summer, just after Brexit, the will of the people opened up the Tate Modern extension. The building looks like a fortress and it suited the climate of the country. Luckily, inside it is a wonderland of modern art, with a new 360 degree view over London and those horrid flats on Bankside. A nation fed up of millionaires was able to glare directly into their sterile living rooms and gasp “it looks like a show home”. Tate Modern put up a tiny sign asking for resident’s privacy to be respected. It was in every respect, the art event of the year. Here, my friend Leanne is risking it all with an umbrella opened up inside!

Man. Mourning a bucket.

Man. Mourning a bucket.

Here is a man looking sad by a bucket in the horrid flats on Bankside. The Switch House viewing platform is another highlight of the Tate Modern extension.

Berlin

Berlin

One of the first photos I took when I landed in Berlin was this sneaky one of a man, wearing bleachers, drinking beer from a roadside kiosk, holding flowers. The relaxed atmosphere of Berlin is just one reason why I love it.

Ferry to Skye

Ferry to Skye

In October, we took the ferry to Skye from Mallaig. After a stunning train journey it made sense to take a beautiful ferry ride. This girl proclaimed that her pose was “a Titanic reference!”. Meanwhile, Skye rose majestically in the distance.

The Old Man of Storr - Skye

The Old Man of Storr – Skye

Words, photos and memories do not do the Old Man of Storr justice. A steep walk up slippy paths in ever-apocalyptic weather got me thinking I should look more at my footing, but every second spent staring at the rock formations was a second well spent. An ancient landslide caused the startling rock formations, visible for miles around and the height of 11 double decker buses. Breathtaking.

Tate Modern – Switch House

The ziggurat

The ziggurat

On a visit to Tate Modern a few years ago, my mum reeled out the line that she could make the art on display in front of her. I recall it being some sort of dystopian metalwork thing. My response was what you’d expect from a loving son… “Well, you haven’t made it and you’re not a famous artist so…” which ended that conversation. Without a doubt, art galleries can be difficult places, where the art can seem distant, elitist even. But when they succeed, galleries can become meeting places for people, places to wander about and relax in a stimulating environment. And don’t get me started on the bookshop at Tate Modern. 

Tate Modern has redefined the idea of what a modern art gallery can be, and with 5.2 million visitors in its first year, Tate Modern showed there was an intense appetite for a new space for art. Even in 2015, it remains a blockbuster of an attraction, the fifth most visited attraction of its kind in the UK, with 4.7 million visitors.

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Tate Tanks

A blockbuster it may be, but when I first saw the designs for the Tate Modern extension, I had to suppress a scream, because on paper it just looked a mess hurled up with no thought to the surrounding environment. With time I have come to love the new bold statement. Starting with the outside, the ziggurat shape is not some fevered dream of the architects as much as it a realistic use of the space available; there are still turbines generating electricity within the old power station and over-priced, under-nice flats have sprung up around the Tate Modern, making the new structure seem like “like a defensive watchtower” in the words of Oliver Wainwright. Unusually, the new structure is built of brick, 336,000 of them, demoting glass to mere strips slashing the buildings surface, yet allowing the interior to feel bright and spacious, which is an impressive feat.

The bright interior

The bright interior is filled with exciting spaces

Heading into The Tanks, an underground cavern where oil used to be stored, there is a genuine sense of excitement at what has been accomplished. Being given the gift of grit and industry, the architects have finished the space off as rough-hewn as imaginable. Above one doorway is a set of concrete steps, leading nowhere. The walls are uneven and the concrete seems to have retained scars from its former use, dank stains are everywhere. The Tanks are said to be the world’s first permanent space for video installation and Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Primitive is nine videos set in Thailand. The videos are not seemingly in order and all play over each other, creating an uneasy viewing experience made somewhat surreal by cushions strewn across the gallery floor. People lay down, some looking up at the ceiling, others switching position to see what’s happening on another screen. Couples are inter-twined and a sense of calm pervades.

Cushions and videos inside the Tanks

Cushions and videos inside the Tanks

Robert Morris Untitled

There’s also a massive room filled with interactive art, my favourite being Robert Morris’ Untitled, a series of glass cubes that reflect the room around you, perfect for photography.

The grand staircase leading up to the new floors is reminiscent of Tate Britain’s new staircase. Where Britain’s staircase is a marble wonder with intricate art deco detailing, Modern’s staircase is of gorgeous twisting concrete. You are led up past one of the endless, excellent, shops to the new collections on levels 2-4 where you can appreciate just how much new space there is. I was surprised to see works that were so immersive; Ricardo Basbaum’s Capsules were little nap stations but one couple also took it upon themselves to start spooning, which is one interpretation of the artist’s intention. But also, they could just not.

Capsules

Capsules

Staircase of dreams

Staircase of dreams

 

What is particularly impressive about the new levels is that the rooms are so vast and open as well as lit from above, so any future re-hangs can take place with maximum flexibility. Coming across a pile of bricks on the floor, I was struck by my mum’s argument that she could have made the art. Carl Andre’s work, not called A pile of bricks, but Equivalent VIII was controversial when the gutter press got involved, but here it is displayed again, looking like a pile of bricks. Is it art? I guess if someone in art calls it art, it is art.

Chicken Feet

Chicken Feet

On Level 3, we encounter a load of Chicken Feet by Meschac Gaba, which I must have loved because I took a photo of the artist’s details as well as the picture of the feet. Perhaps I just enjoyed the colour. But if my tone suggests I am losing interest in the art, it’s just down to fatigue. I always get gallery fatigue about 90 minutes into my excursions. With that in mind, it’s straight up to Level 10 for the 360-degree viewing platform. A great new addition to every Londoner’s favourite past-time of looking out over the city, the viewing platform offers outstanding views of St Paul’s, the existing Tate Modern tower and excitingly, right into the glossy flats opposite. I spot a man looking dolefully at a bucket in the sharp corner of his living room. He has become art, and is paying a fortune for it. Luckily for the rest of us, visiting the Tate is free and the new extension is a great new addition to London’s cultural life.

Man and Mop

Man and Bucket

View from the top

View from the top