The Secret Life of Nanna by Candy Goldsmith – Perth
What DO Nannas get up to when left alone at home ?
A tribute by Algernon
Part of a documentary about Mt Hakodate, interviewing Lehan Ramsay about her project; an exhibition of large black-and-white photographs of people and places in Hakodate, Hokkaido, Japan. Winter 2008-9.
I found this youtube video a while back. While it’s entirely in Japanese it does give us an insight into some of her work when she was living there. We also hear her speak as part of it.
Emmjay met Lehan in Sydney between her visits to Japan but I didn’t know Lehan personally, other than by her writings here and at The Drum and her artwork she so freely shared with us at the Pig’s Arms. We all know of her struggles with depression. Her time in Japan and return to Maclean where she had trouble settling back in, going back to Japan then returning again.
Depression and mental illness has touched some of us either directly or with family members. I’m distressed that she has succumbed.
I will miss her artwork, some of which can be found here http://lehanramsay.blogspot.com.au/ and the conversations where she would write a a stream of consciousness.
I will miss having her with us at the pub and the richness she provided to all of us.
Rest in peace Lehan.
Lifeline: https://www.lifeline.org.au/ Ph.13 11 14
Beyondblue: https://www.beyondblue.org.au/ Ph. 1300 22 4636
Text and Images by Sandshoe
The image (above) is a photo of the wire of an iron frame wire gate, modified by intensifying the colours, by cloning and re-pasteing onto it selected areas of the view through the wire to highlight the wire and converting the resultant image into interpretive forms using Photoshop.
In other words, folks who don’t know, I altered the original photo until I stopped on an image that ‘pleased’ me insofar as it illustrates the meaning (for me) in an abstract form that I derive out of the photo I started with.
Only short of the conversion of it into a kaleidoscopic form, I posted the photo of the gate wire this morning on a social network site I recently began to contribute to, blipfoto. For those who do not know about ‘blipping’, blipfoto allows a subscriber one photo a day. ‘Blippers’ sift through a daily diet of individual’s photos as they choose and comment in return. Try to upload a photo that was not taken within a recent time frame and the blipfoto programme will deny it entry. Assume a photograph from a few days ago will ‘do’ for today and the programme allocates it a position if you have one available on the calendar day the photo was taken, if you hadn’t already uploaded one that day, and labels it ‘backdated’.
You cannot on any given day qualify for that day if you did not take a photo and you are asked to not fudge it.
Instructions are easy enough to follow, uploading a photo takes no time, the level of my subscription attracts no charge and some people write text to go with their photo.
Not very different from the pub really in some ways, blipfoto, except emphasis on the Pig’s here is not exclusively photography, does not ask for anything that is an identifier other than an email address, lacks some discipline as any self respecting pub does in Australia packed with writers and artists, the inspiration of causal and casual cooks and chefs and totally, talk.
Sometimes we turn up and sometimes we do not, who knows turn tail for a while or forever, barrack for the proprietor.
Writing and posting contributions on the wall of the front bar, the Pigs Arms, The Window Dresser’s Arms, Pig & Whistle does best. This ever changing exhibition happens according to how fast the next person’s expression of their eccentric inner self gets posted and the list of contributors cycles. That’s valuable work alongside, leastwise, housing Granny and her dubious brewing equipment, Foodge, Merv the Barman and the twins and their mother, the characters all who have developed within the walls – and allegedly leasing commercial space that is at present always available in the vacant rooms of the pub, its outlier buildings for more characters if they are thought of, more mythology such as has grown around the carpark and when the plumbing blocks ,the emergency long drop left over from when the night truck collected the excreta and council workers clanged cans on purpose underneath the guest wing.
The Hell’s Angles keep an eye on security, although Foodge is a Private Dick.
The older the history of the Pig’s Arms the more layers of the story are told,.
The contributions of the barflies and casual contributors are inside the folders on the RHS of the page. A commenter can jump in anywhere but if they want and comment and contribute to the story of the bar itself without following the trail. Gosh, it doesn’t take Einstein to understand the premise keeping these premises open 24/7 is home spun, feet on the ground brawlin’ and fightin’ and spittin’ and… wrong story line, sorry, I was reading the wrong instructions. I’m a copywriter. They paid me to…
Sorry. I maintain a dedicated loose grip on the truth. No-one gets paid.
Truth, honest, Mike Jones regardless hasn’t been awarded the Order of Australia yet for the Pig’s Arms even though he made it to the cover of Rolling Stone …
He didn’t! That was Seniors magazine!
… sent me an email a while back and suggested I send in a piece for the birthday party. I’m onto it.
Happy Fourth Birthday, Pig’s Arms at The Window Dresser’s Arms, Pig & Whistle.