The Gentle Author
Writer and Creator of Spitalfields Life
Entrance to Dennis Severs' House, 18 Folgate Street, Spitalfields
For more than seven years, and without missing a single day, the Gentle Author – for that is the name he prefers – has written a daily story on his blog Spitalfields Life about the people and culture of the East End. There, he describes his "hare- brained" promise to write 10,000 stories about Spitalfields, which has grown to cover a much wider area of the East End. He affectionately depicts local people and places, and by doing so has become a celebrated diarist and cultural historian of our time.
The project has a deeply personal motivation. After his father died, the Gentle Author moved back to his childhood home in Devon to look after his mother who suffered from dementia. During the six years he lived with her until her death he was rarely able to leave the house. He couldn’t have done this, he says, without the help of some amazing people.
It was something that altered his view of life and made him realise just how extraordinary it is to be in the world. He had had a successful career as a writer, but from that point on he wanted to write in a different way. For one thing, he wished to express himself in an unmediated way, with no gatekeeper between him and the reader. He also wanted to write stories that nobody else was writing – about the ordinary and, to other eyes, invisible people that surrounded him.
He moved back to Spitalfields in 2009 (his first job was there in 1981) and began writing his now famous Spitalfelds Life. He started without much purpose beyond trying to take the idea of a blog as a literary form quite seriously. Very quickly he noticed that the more ambitious the stories, the quicker the readership grew. Besides writing his daily stories, he publishes books, teaches courses, leads political campaigns and writes articles for magazines and newspapers.
By way of writing Spitafields Life, the Gentle Author found out that his family actually came from the East End. When he published some letters his grandmother had written to his father (she was an unmarried mother who had to give him away as a child), two genealogists who read his blog got in touch with him. Together they were able to uncover his own ancestry. It turned out that his great-grandmother grew up just 50 yards from where he lives now near Brick Lane. To know that he is connected to the place through his ancestors makes him feel more comfortable writing about it.
The Gentle Author's pledge to write his daily stories means he will be writing for many years to come, but seven years into the project he is still enthusiastic. "The fact that I’ve written the life stories of about 1,500 people – that’s a real personal passion.” It's very distressing to the Gentle Author to know that when people die, sometimes their life stories, along with their work, are lost for ever. This is part of the reason he writes Spitafield Life and the stories he reveals help to immortalise the fascinating people of the East End. Last autumn, for example, he published a selection of remarkable paintings created by artist Doreen Fletcher. She had given up her art years ago because of the lack of interest in her work. When he published her paintings of the East End in Spitalfields Life it was a sensation. Several galleries became interested and a solo show is now planned.
It's wonderful to hear stories like this and it shows just how influential Spitalfields Life has become and how many possibilities it has created. In all the years the Gentle Author has been writing, and to his own surprise, he has been able to keep his identity secret. Writing anonymously is not a publicity stunt but a device deliberately chosen to put the people and the culture centre stage. “I decided to step back and all I want to reveal is that my intention in doing this is benign.”
We are lucky to have had the chance to meet the Gentle Author and, by way of Spitalfields Life, will continue to accompany him on his wanderings for many years to come.
What makes you most proud? I suppose you could say that I’m proud that the 1838 Marquis of Lansdowne Pub is still there in Cremer Street, Hoxton. We saved that pub when the Geffrye Museum wanted to use Heritage Lottery funding to demolish it. I thought it was disgraceful, because they call themselves a "museum of the home" and in the East End the pub is an extension of the domestic space. When the director of the museum justified this by saying that the museum was "not interested in the culture of the labouring classes" it was very disappointing. But at that point I realised that we had a huge readership who could write letters of objection. It was class war. And the Hackney Planning Committee refused permission for demolition. That’s a victory you could say I'm proud of.
What are you working on? Photographer John Claridge took more photographs in the East End in the fifties and sixties than anyone else. Because he was just a kid with a camera everyone was very open to him and he took many beautiful photographs, which we are now putting together into the definitive book of his work to be published this summer.
Best coffee in these parts? I don’t drink coffee but my favourite places for a cup of tea are Pellicci’s in Bethnal Green, Leila’s Café in Shoreditch and the Town House in Spitalfields. Those are the places I like to go.
Where do you eat out? I like St. John Bread & Wine in Spitalfields – it’s my regular and it never disappoints.
What do you do at weekends? I don’t really have weekends, but I do love to go to the market. Occasionally, it’s been possible to have guest writers take over sometimes, but the irony is that when I do get a few days off it is to finish a book or to tidy the house.
Anything you would change? In Spitalfields, there’s now a vacant lot where they demolished the London Fruit & Wool Exchange. There were more than a 100 small businesses in there and Tower Hamlets Council voted unanimously to save the building but Boris Johnson overruled them in favour of the developers. It’s going to become chain stores and headquarters for an international law firm. Boris wants to do the same thing in Norton Folgate. Tower Hamlets refused the developers but he is going to overturn that. And then there is the Bishopsgate Goods Yard... With over 40,000 on the housing list, Hackney and Tower Hamlets object to a luxury development of tower blocks of flats that will put the Boundary Estate into permanent shadow. There will be no benefit for local people and it will blight the East End for generations to come. Boris Johnson is able to overrule local democracy and do all this. If I could change one thing it would be to take that power away from him.
The area’s best-kept secret? Well, I’d say it is Paul Gardner’s paper bag shop (see picture below). I’ve written about it a lot. It’s just up the road at 149 Commercial Street. It was opened by James Gardner in 1870 and then his son Bertie took over, and then his son Ray took over and now Paul Gardner is there. It is the oldest-established business here and it’s the cheapest paper bag shop in London. It also sells balls of strings and tags... anything you could need to do with market trading. And it’s a wonderful place because Paul is a very charismatic man and all the customers love him. His shop is like a pub where people stand around and tell stories, an incredible institution and the hub of Spitalfields. The whole meaning of Spitalfields is bound up with that place.
If the East End were human? It would be Nicholas Culpeper, a physician in the 17th century. He believed it was wrong that the Royal College of Physicians could set the price of what it cost to see a doctor because it meant that most people could never see one. He worked and lived in Spitalfields and was the first to put forward the idea that healthcare ought be free as a human right. He treated 40 people a day for free and translated medical books from Latin into English so that anyone could read them. His generous and radical spirit embodies the best of the East End.
East End in a word? Resourcefulness.
This article was co-written with Julie Daniels and appeared in the January 2016 issue of LoveEast Magazine
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Paul Gardner's paper bag shop, Commercial Street, Spitalfields
Jonesy
Street Artist and Environmentalist
Jonesy is a street artist that brings his genre to a whole new level. His small bronze sculptures are placed high above our heads on top of street signs and poles or are fixed to walls. Unlike other street art, his pieces are initially unassuming and quiet. They blend in with their urban surroundings and are often not visible at first glance.
Once spotted though, the uniqueness of Jonesy’s work becomes immediately apparent. The cast bronze figures are beautifully intricate, interwoven and full of imagery. In addition to the bronzes, the master craftsman creates carved wood sculptures and original hand-drawn posters or lino prints, which he pastes up around the streets.
His work refers to environmental issues. He is a campaigner committed to drawing attention to the harm that is done to our planet. Oil extraction from tar sands, global warming, nuclear waste, are just a few of the issues he stands up for.
The Welshman, who came to London in the 1980s, works a day job in a foundry casting bronzes for other artists. The rest of his time he dedicates to street art. His studio under the roof of an industrial building in the Bow area is full of nooks and crannies and matches the romantic notion of an artist’s place. Inside, the conglomeration of finished bronzes, drawings, found objects, paints, wax models reveals Jonesy’s artistic variety.
While he picked up the bronze casting techniques over the years he’s worked at the foundry, his other skills are all self-taught. Jonesy came to street art almost by accident. One afternoon he went out and placed a few figures randomly around the streets. It made him realise that it’s the ideal platform for the environmental message.
“I feel the art world in this country is broken,” he says. “It should be a means of expression for the public. But it is so controlled by money through the gallery system. It stops galleries promoting artists that are critical of its sponsors.” That’s why it’s important for Jonesy to do stuff on the street. It is not commercial and it’s accessible to everybody.
He didn’t expect any response when he started installing his pieces, but to his own surprise, it didn’t take long for people to notice them. Today, Jonesy is a known name in the scene and a favorite of the street art tour guides who like the fact that his pieces are not easily noticeable.
At the moment, Jonesy has an illegal intervention going on at the Tate Modern. In broad daylight he glued a round bronze medal, with an environmental message, onto a wall at the museum’s new Switch House. It’s been up five weeks and Jonesy wonders if nobody has noticed it yet - or whether they have left it there on purpose. “I’m almost a bit disappointed that I didn’t get caught. I wanted to make a point of why I did it,” he says laughing.
Another of Jonesy’s passions is crafting musical instruments. On the wall, alongside the back of the studio, hangs a series of hand-made guitars. All of them are made from sustainable or recycled wood and are decorated with amazing details. Music is another means of getting across an environmental message. “Making guitars is like making weapons of freedom of speech,” he says.
Jonesy gives his musical instruments away to musicians that he thinks could voice his environmental concerns. With that, his message reaches people on the streets through yet another form of art.
Jonesy’s pieces can be found around the Brick Lane area (Fournier St, Hanbury St, Osborne St, Sclater St, Bacon St) on Columbia Road, along the canals and by Bow Lock.
The Beehive Foundry
James Hoyle and Son LTd.
It was a bright, sunny day when we visited James Hoyle & Son’s Beehive Foundry on Andrews Road, E8, right by the canal. Entering the rather dilapidated building felt a bit like stepping into a cave, or at least, back into an earlier time. The workshop is dark and dusty and an acrid smell hangs in the air. There is sand, flashes of bright light, piles of raw iron, tables cluttered with tools and protective gear. The men who work there are dedicated, friendly; everyone busy making sand moulds, tending to the furnace, wheeling barrows of raw iron around. Nothing seems to have changed since it all began back in 1880.
Foreman Luiz Nobrega gave us the guided tour. He took on this role after Alan Hoyle, head of the family firm, died last year. Luiz is Brazilian and the husband of Alan’s daughter, who also works in the business. Another family member, 25-year- old Benjamin, is a fifth generation descendant of James Hoyle, the company’s founder. Ben is currently learning all the workings of the foundry with the aim of running it some day.
It was fascinating to watch a traditional manual process that hasn’t changed much in 130 years. As a first step in producing ironwork, a sand-resin mixture is poured into wooden boxes to create the mould. Next, the moulds are laid out and secured with weights. In a crucible, the molten iron is carried from the furnace over to the moulds and the lava-like liquid metal is poured in. Once the iron has cooled down, the moulds are broken open and the finished product is revealed.
The foundry has many types of customers and commissions range from casting tiny jewellery elements to large pieces of garden furniture. But their specialisation is 19th-century design balustrades, panels, finials, etc. Beehive’s work can be seen all over London and includes the lamp posts along Chelsea Embankment and the railing heads at 10 Downing Street.
This is the only foundry left in London. Asked why their firm has survived while all the others have not, Ben says that it was “pure luck”. The industry suddenly faced tough competition from Asia, but the quality of mass-produced casting wasn’t the same and because Beehive Foundry stuck to tradition methods, their pieces had an unrivalled quality, which kept demand high.
Ben and the other Hoyles have no intention of giving up their unique, historic business and the only modernisation Luiz is thinking about right now is how to get more young people to learn the trade.
This article appeared in the June 2015 issue of E9 Magazine
Bellerby + Co
Globemakers
There is a focussed energy in the Stoke Newington workshop where 17 people work in silence and with full concentration on manufacturing the finest globes one could imagine. The team made of artists, designers and cartographers draw borders between countries, colours in oceans, cut out lobe-shaped strings of paper, shade contours of continents and carefully protect the precious ball with layers of varnish.
The process to make a globe sounds simple, wetting and stretching a piece of paper across a sphere with utmost precision is a tricky business. “All it wants to do is turn to mush under your fingers and tear,” says Peter Bellerby, the company’s founder. One mistake can destroy weeks’ worth of paintwork. A globemaker therefore needs to be dexterous and, equally important, very, very patient.
A Bellerby globe is a piece of perfection. The maps are accurate to the smallest detail. The blue and green hues of the oceans are painted on without the slightest spill or smudge. On a wooden base with invisible roller bearings the spherical models of the world move fluidly in any direction or spin effortlessly on a brass arm. The fingers of the viewer, on their journey over the continents, glide easily over the ever-so-smooth surface.
Every globe is unique and often bespoke. Clients choose the colours or have places highlighted that are important to them. Some request sea monsters, portraits of head of states or even their spouse painted on as a mermaid.
Peter founded the company seven years ago following an unsuccessful search for a globe for his father’s 80th birthday. The choices available were either cheep mass produced or fragile and outdated antique models. None was up-to-date and also aesthetically pleasing. That’s why Peter decided to build his own.
The plan was to invest three months in the project. But things got completely out of hand. Every step in the creation brought up new and different challenges: creating a perfectly round mould for the globe, morphing a rectangular map into shapes that fit onto a sphere, finding specialist parts and tools - to just name a few of the problems encountered.
Two years on, he finally succeeded in making a model that met his own perfectionist requirements (his father had to make do with a pair of socks for his 80th birthday). Peter had turned his passion into a business.
Right away a well-known local artist ordered a few globes. Peter’s story was mentioned in the press and the business has been flourishing ever since. The waiting time for a globe is currently 12 months.
“I don’t really want to grow much bigger. I want to get to a stage where we can make around 1000 globes a year so that we keep it a really special thing.” he says.
Karen HSU
Pom Pom Maker
Karen Hsu, with her pom poms (picture courtesy of Karen)
With their delicate, fluffy, almost evanescent petals, Karen Hsu’s flower pom poms are like objects from a fairyland.
They come in all sizes and many wonderful colours and are handmade by Karen and her team at the Pom Pom Factory (currently located in her Brick Lane flat). The ornaments are used for window displays, party decorations, editorials and sometimes are even worn as accessories. They can be bought individually or assembled together as an elaborate installation.
Karen moved here from Hong Kong in 2001 to do a foundation course followed by a degree in graphic design at Central Saint Martins. Many years and career moves later she started working at the Mercantile clothing shop in Spitalfields. In 2010, the owner of the shop was in urgent need of a Christmas window display. With no budget but a lot of white wrapping paper at her disposal, Karen came to the rescue and transformed the window into a whimsical white flower scene. Before long, she started receiving enquiries - for single pom poms as well as for whole flower installations.
Her following grew rapidly and she was commissioned to make party decorations and window displays for other shops. That’s when the Pom Pom Factory in its current form was born. The breakthrough for Karen came when a merchandiser from a French clothing brand noticed her work and placed an order for 600 pom poms for their Paris flagship store. That was her first big commission. Soon after, she gave up her job at the store and ever since has made pom poms for a living.
Because it’s a simple creation and the only product of the Pom Pom Factory, every element of it needs to be perfect. “You can’t really cheat. It’s paper.” Karen says.
To make the pom poms, she takes a bunch of tissue paper, layers them and folds them into an accordion fan. She then ties the middle of the fan with wire and cuts the edges round. By carefully unfolding the accordion and separating the sheets of the flimsy paper, Karen brings the flower to blossom. She works quickly and is very precise. If there is enough time at hand, though, she prefers to work more slowly.
“Pom pom making is very therapeutic.” she explains. “I like the repetitiveness of it. When making the flowers, my head is always free and that feels very creative.” Maybe it is in her Asian genes, she suggests. Her Asian friends feel the same. Often they come over to her place for pom pom making after a stressful day at work. “We sometimes laugh and call ourselves Chinese factory worker”
“It’s a weird career”. Karen’s friends in Hong Kong can’t believe that she is still able to make a living out of her paper flowers. She is not scared of running out of work doing her ornaments. “If this happens, I’ll just look for something else to do. I just let it happen.” she says light-heartedly and with a laugh. It seems like Karen is the living proof that pom pom making has a calming and positive effects on one’s state of mind.
Jay Miller
Artistic Director of the Yard Theatre
The rehearsals for The Mikvah Project were in full swing when I went to Hackney Wick to interview Jay Miller, the Yard’s s founder and artistic director. His new production is a two-man act that centers around an on-stage Mikvah (a Jewish bath) filled with 18 tons of water, and explores the limits of love. The play is on until 14 March and promises to be a theatre experience of a very different kind.
Jay graduated from Newcastle University (the town where he grew up) and studied theatre arts in Paris, before coming to London in 2010. The recession and the subsequent cuts closed many doors for young artists. By founding The Yard the following year, Jay wanted to open up new opportunities and create an encouraging and nurturing space for emerging artists; somewhere where risks could be taken.
The theatre has received huge acclaim ever since. As well as winning multiple awards, its in-house production ‘Beyond Caring’ will be transferring to the National Theatre this spring. While Miller is proud and excited about the support he receives from the West End he also points out that it’s important to be at the edge of the city. “I feel that sitting outside is a more comfortable place to be. From the edge you can look in.”
In Hackney Wick’s industrial setting, Miller found the ideal place for his theatre. The Yard is nestled among run-down warehouses and constructed entirely from reclaimed and recycled materials. Its temporary nature is intentional. “The fact that it’s not a permanent fixture gives us flexibility, makes us fleet of foot,” he explains. The ephemerality of the place is very much linked to what Jay wants to achieve. “I’m trying to make work that can happen only in the theatre’. I want to make this feel like a live experience and very present for an audience. Theatre- It’s there and it’s gone. You can’t hold it”.
Jay has close family ties to the East End. It’s where his father grew up and where most of the members from that side of the family still live. Only a mile or so away from the theatre is where his great-grandfather set up shop after he and his family fled the Russian pogroms and settled down in East London’s Jewish community, so this part of London is very much in Jay’s blood.
What drew you to Hackney? It was the artistic tapestry of the area that drew me here. And the fact that it it’s on the edge. The area has a strong identity but recognizes that it is changing. I like the industrial feel of Hackney Wick. It’s a metaphor for 21st century Britain. That is very inspiring. I also like that it is changing and that it’s restless. It is welcoming and because of my family’s history I can call this place home.
Does the area influence your work? A lot, yes. The setting up of the theatre in a warehouse was really important and there weren’t many warehouse to be found in London. The space feels very epic. That influences the work. Also the people I work with, who are mostly East London-based, are a huge influence. I feel that the political angle of our work is far more dangerous here. It says more here. A lot of the work we do is about housing, low-paid work and gentrification. Those messages are so much more powerful here.
What makes you most proud? When audience members tell me that coming to the Yard is a completely new experience for them and that they see and feel the world in a new way.
What are you working on now? Other than the previous plays, the current show The Mikvah Project is about human rather than social concerns. I wanted to make a show that explores the edges of who we think we are or who we could be. I am interested in how people change and if it is trough something innate or something external. My next production will be about five young men in the British Army.
Best coffee in these parts? We do excellent tea in our office! But a good place to have coffee is the Timber Lodge, in the Olympic Park.
Where do you eat out? On Leytonstone High Road there are some brilliant Eastern European restaurants – Rumanian, Lithuanian, Latvian. They don’t speak any English and you have to point at the menu and hope what you choose is palatable. I also like the East Ham Curry Houses. Without a doubt they serve the best curries in town and are very good value.
What do you do at the weekend? I use my weekends to do my house up but on a Sunday I like to visit a gallery and go to see a film. Embarrassingly I go to Westfield because I can walk back home and chat about the film.
Anything you would change? Having a door on my theatre to stop the cold coming in; I’d like some heating, toilets that don’t block. Other than that I do worry about gentrification and the rate of change. People moving in, people moving out. I love that there are five greasy spoons nearby. We got Griddlers next door and I love the people there. How much longer will it be there? Not much, probably.
Hackney's best-kept secret? Natura Café and Pizzeria on 3 Felstead Steet, Hackney Wick and Hub67 a newly created community space for young people and local residents.
If Hackney were human? A centaur (half-man half-horse).It’s quite magical and feels like a lot of different things in one place.
Hackney in a word? Chocolate-box
This interview appeared in the March 2015 issue of E9 Magazine
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Mark Streit
His resolute pursuit to NHL fame
Mark Streit brings the Stanley Cup to Bern (2017)
Mark Streit is a former ice hockey player. He was the first Swiss field player to succeed in the NHL and to be named captain of an NHL team. In addition, he led the Swiss national team at several World Championships and the Olympic Games. Mark retired from professional sports in 2017. He is the co-founder of Norqain, a watch brand, a member of SCB’s board of governors and involved in the club’s youth development program.
Even though Mark Streit was only 39, he was considered ‘old’ when he retired. When his career ended rather abruptly five years ago, it took him a while to transition into the next chapter in his life. A few years into his retirement, Mark is at ease with his chosen tasks and strikes a good balance integrating work and life.
Mark is looking back at 22 successful years as a professional hockey player, the last 12 of which he played in the NHL (National Hockey League). He is the first Swiss field player who has achieved this and is therefore regarded as an NHL pioneer.
Changing gears from a high-octane hockey pro lifestyle into a retired way of life can’t be easy. “I really missed the sport and the hustle and bustle around it. Your hockey career gives you a rigid structure – everything is planned for you. If that suddenly falls away, everything crumbles,” Mark recalls. It was clear for him and his young family to return to Switzerland after his career ended. He planned to take two years off before doing something new, but when the word spread that Mark was back in Bern, requests and offers for tempting engagements kept rolling in. He soon realized, though, that the various assignments pulled him in too many different directions and that he couldn’t enjoy his newly gained freedom of not being dictated by training- and game plans.
His focus now is solely on Norqain, a watch brand that he co-founded with a friend, and on helping develop new talents at his old hockey club, the SCB (Schlittschuh Club Bern), where he also sits on the board of governors. These tasks leave him enough time for his family and himself. It is important to him that he can pick his daughters up from Kindergarten or take them skiing for a week in winter, something that wasn’t possible when he was playing hockey.
That’s also why we won’t see Mark shouting instructions from the coach’s bench anytime soon. "I was tied up with hockey and inflexible for 25 years. The price for me at this point is just too high. I value the freedom I have now too much”.
Shortly after coming back to his home country, he was approached by a publisher to write his biography. Mark says he always thought of writing it, especially during his last years overseas. His story to NHL fame is a fascinating tale that follows the twists and turns of a classical hero’s journey. Let’s look back to when it all began.
Mark is from a sporty family that loved winter sports – particularly skiing and ice skating. His grandfather and his parents were season card holders and would take little Mark to see games of the local hockey team, the SCB. Entering the arena, vibrating with the energy of 17,000 passionate fans, was always a thrilling spectacle. “The mood and atmosphere in there are unique, and the club was playing really well at that time,” Mark remembers. “That left a big impact on me. I really wanted to be one of the players standing on the ice and being cheered on by so many people.”
Watching these games gave Mark the impetus to enter SCB’s youth clubs, where he trained and played throughout his childhood. He liked the fun to be had on the ice and the camaraderie attached to the sport. "At that age, every boy wants to become a pro hockey or soccer player." Mark meant it and followed his calling to nearby Fribourg, where he started as a pro player in Switzerland’s top league at the age of 17.
While his friends turned nights into days, his tightly packed player’s agenda wouldn’t allow for anything more than an occasional cinema visit. “I never saw this as a sacrifice. I liked hockey so much I never felt I was missing out," Mark contemplates. “Of course, you do miss out on making certain experiences important for your personal development. But you make them another time and in another way.”
When he was 20, after four years of playing in the Swiss top league, Mark decided to try his luck in America, where he should quickly catch up with his non-hockey friends in having character-building experiences. Since his parents took him to an NHL game with the San Jose Sharks when he was 14, he knew he wanted to play in the NHL one day too. Saying goodbye to his parents and sister at the airport was emotional. But he went anyway.
Landing in Salt Lake City – he was to play for the Utah Grizzlies (the former IHL) – he assumed someone from the team would be there to pick him up. That wasn’t the case. Nobody was waiting for him, not at the airport and not anywhere else there, for that matter. Not only did he have to deal with a massive culture shock, but it was also challenging at such a young age to suddenly have to fend for himself and find an apartment, buy a car, and have his documents registered. “I had to grow up very quickly,” Mark contemplates.
Growing up in a tightly knit and loving family in a country with a high level of prosperity, it was the first time he was confronted with entirely different people and lifestyles. Many of his teammates led a hand-to-mouth existence; something Mark didn't know existed. Also, hockey-wise, it wasn’t a stroll in the park. The Grizzlies soon wanted to send him down to an even lower league and communicated this decision to him by placing his equipment, carelessly packed up into a bin bag, at the changing room entrance. Despite such adversities, he stuck to his chosen path.
What was nice, though, was the friendships he made among his teammates, many of whom were other Europeans trying their luck equally unsuccessfully. "Knowing I was not alone gave me the strength to do it." What fascinated him was how much everybody looked out for each other. "I just had to get rid of some of my reservations and prejudices,” Mark reminisces. “I became much more uncomplicated during that time." A trait he has adopted and taken back with him to Switzerland. "I'm much more spontaneous and invite people over and make sure nobody is alone. Because I know how it feels when you are lonely." Luckily his wife doesn’t mind having additional last-minute guests over, either!
Bouncing around clubs in the minor leagues for a year was enough for Mark. He was disappointed to realize that it wouldn’t work out. Back home, he signed with Zurich’s ZSC Lions and was determined to get better, stronger, bigger, and improve his overall game. Despite quickly rising to become a star defender in the Swiss National League and the national team, he wasn’t ready to bury his NHL dream just yet. After his fourth season in Zurich, the long-awaited call finally came from the Montréal Canadiens, who subsequently offered him a 1-year-contract. That was in 2004, and Mark was 26 at the time, an unusually old age for a player to be drafted. "That was a bit of an exception, to give a player a chance so late in his career. I knew this was the last possible chance I had."
Going back to North America the second time, Mark was better prepared for the cultural differences off the ice. But he wasn’t ready for the culture shock on the rink. “The hockey played in the NHL differs greatly from that played in Switzerland. The rink is smaller, the game faster, more intense, and much, much harder.” It was challenging for Mark, and the pressure to perform was mentally taxing. Being a star player in Switzerland didn’t make a difference there. He was a rookie again and had to fight for playtime in every game. It took him nearly a year to feel relaxed on the ice and to be able to assertively say, “Yes, I belong here!” After that, his confidence began to show in his game too. He went on to spend three successful years in Montréal before joining the New York Islanders for five seasons, where Mark was made captain – also a Swiss first.
In North America, hockey has another significance than in Switzerland. Depending on where you are, in Montreal for example, hockey is a religion, and a good player has the status of a rock star. At the same time, as the first Swiss NHL star, he was also a sensation in his home country. Has the success and attention gotten to his head? “It felt strange that everybody could read how much I earned in the newspaper.” He admits that this changed other people’s perspective on him and his family, and that while many were happy for him, there were also enviers. ”It wasn't a big deal for me because I knew how much I had sacrificed and how much effort was behind these achievements. I can live with that.” Mark kept his feet firmly on the ground and never lost sight of where he was coming from. His relatively modest upbringing and the values passed on by his parents have helped him with that, he believes.
The next stops in his career were three and a half seasons in Philadelphia before transferring at the trade deadline to Pittsburgh, where he helped lift the Penguins to their second Stanley Cup in a row in 2017. “Raising the cup was the best feeling in my whole career! To be able to experience something like that at 39 is fantastic! All the hard work, sacrifice, perseverance, and passion for the game finally paid off.”
Mark is a role model for many young Swiss players to try and pursue their dream of playing in the NHL. “It is like climbing Mount Everest. Once the first one has done it, others see a way to do it, too,” Mark says. His story of persistence, hard work and patience, and of overcoming obstacles and pragmatically turning setbacks into learning opportunities, is an inspiration not only for aspiring young NHL players, but also for the rest of us.
A visit to the Big Apple during his stint with the New York Islanders
This portrait appeared in the 2022/23 publication “Bonebridge goes America”.
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Freed of London Ltd
Legendary Ballet and Theatrical Shoe Manufacturer
If ballet is about precision of form, artistry and personal expression, the same can be said about Freed of London’s ballet shoes.
They are produced in an unassuming building on Well Street and are worn by prima ballerinas all over the world. Freed of London was founded by cobbler Frederick Freed and his wife Dora in 1929, in St Martin’s Lane where the company still has its flagship store. Mr Freed brought international success to the company by inventing the “turn-side” method. The shoe is built inside out, allowing the maker to customize size, width and other different components to fit an individual dancer’s foot. This invention revolutionized the dance shoe industry where, before, only standard sizes where available.
“No two feet are the same - a shoe needs to fit a dancers foot.” This was Frederick Freed’s philosophy then and it is still lived by at the factory every day.
Freed’s moved their factory to Well Street in 1971 when Hackney was a hub of shoe manufacturing. While all other shoe producers have since disappeared, Freed of London is still going strong. They produce 250’000 pairs of pointe ballet shoes per year and supply more than 90% of the world’s professional ballet companies. Two thirds of all the pointe shoes produced at the company are made to the specific requirements of a dancer, which makes Freed’s shoes the preferred choice for many of them.
shoe lasts
Each maker – there are about 30 of them working at the Well St. factory – shapes their shoes a bit differently. They sit at their benches, meticulously crafting the so-called “block” part of the shoe – the hard part at the tip that encases the toes. The “block” contains no wood or plastic. It’s built with layers of paper, card, hessian and a paste made from flour and water, as well as some secret ingredients. Every maker and can be identified by a symbol on the soles of the shoes – such as an anchor or a crown – and ballerinas tend to have their favourite makers who they often stay with for their entire dance career.
Once the shoe with its finished block is wrapped into a pink satin blank it goes into the oven to be hardened overnight. In the binding room, the additional pieces are sewed on, the shoe is cleaned, polished and then paired up. All the different work steps have a quickness and rhythm to them. The patience and dedication of the craftsmen is striking.
A pair of fitted, specified pointe shoes costs around £40 - a surprisingly low price considering the fact that every part of the shoe is fashioned and guided by the human hand and human eye - and the fact that Freed has kept its production in England.
Inside the "binding room"
“A shoe, whether it is for the principal dancer at the Royal Ballet or for a ten-year-old aspiring ballerina, costs the same. That is a really beautiful thing, “ says Freed’s James Scanlan.
Besides the Ballet Department, the factory also houses a Theatrical Department where ballroom, Latin and shoes for musical theatre are made. Here you find a designer and pattern cutter, “clickers” who cut out the leather, people who sew the pieces together and workers who assemble the different elements to complete the shoes.
Many of the men and women who work for Freed come from long lines of shoemakers, with skills passed down from one generation to the next. The specialisation of the production makes the contribution of every member of the team important to the quality of the finished product and it is trough this loyal team of craftsmen that Freed has built such a proud heritage.
This article appeared in the October 2016 issue of Love East Magazine
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Barn the Spoon
Spoonmaker
In a small shop on Hackney Road surrounded by piles of wood shavings sits an impressive looking man carving spoons. His name is Barnaby Carder, better known as Barn the Spoon.
Barn’s unusual profession came from a lifelong love of woodwork. It started in childhood when his neighbour taught him how to turn bowls. Later on he learnt all kinds of different woodwork techniques such as furniture, fence and jewellery-making. It was about seven years ago when he began a green wood
apprenticeship with a chairmaker and found his true passion – spoon carving. And spoons are what Barn is now famous for.
With just an axe for shaping the outline of the spoon and a bent knife for carving the bowl he brings out beautifully crafted spoons from a chunk of green wood. "I like the simplicity of it. I'm using very basic tools to make another very basic tool," he says.
It looks simple but there's obviously a lot of skill involved. For Barn, his craft has two elements. One is to make a functional household item that people can buy. The other is that he sees his spoons as art. “They're folk sculptures. I like making lots of little spoons for a tenner that dance around someone’s kitchen. People can have a different kind of relationship with a practical item such as a spoon as opposed to a sculpture you see at a museum.”
Before he opened his East London shop three years ago, Barn sold his spoons on the street as a pedlar. He is proud to be able to make a living out of carving spoons. “I was willing to sacrifice a lot so I could just hang out and make spoons. But luckily I don’t need a lot of money. I don’t buy things.”
The spoons are exclusively sold at Barn's shop at 260 Hackney Rd, E2 7SJ. www.barnthespoon.com
Barn also owns a little woodwork school where he collaborates with other craftspeople. Details: www.thegreenwoodguild.com
This article appeared in the October 2015 issue of LoveEast Magazine.
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Jochen Holz
Glassblower
The shelf at the back of Jochen Holz’s Stratford studio reveals a seemingly random but beautiful assemblage of his work. It consists of functional pieces like drinking glasses, jugs and bottles and individual sculptural objects. All the glassworks are very delicate in colour and shape and have a distinctive organic form.
The process of creating a piece of glasswork starts with a glass tube. Jochen holds both ends of the tube and heats the middle part over an open fame until it reaches a glowing and moldable state. He then starts giving the glass its rough form by either tearing the tube apart and enlarging one end of the tube with a tool or by blowing into one end of the tube to give the glass a balloon-like form. The glass is only moldable for a very short time and then it needs to be heated up again for Jochen to continue shaping it to the desired form. To give his glass a surface structure he imprints it on wood, fabric, cheese graters and other interesting textures.
This is a form of glass blowing that is rarely seen in Britain. It’s based on scientifc lampworking – a technique Jochen studied for three years in Germany before moving to Britain to study at The Royal College of Art.
Jochen has gained an exceptional reputation for his craft. Besides commissioned work and collaborations with designers and artists he increasingly creates his own designs. His unique, hand blown glassware is available at Momosan Shop, and The New Craftsmen. Find more information here: Jochen Holz
This article appeared in the November 2015 issue of LoveEast Magazine
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Gods own junkyard
Neon Sign Makers
The neon "junkyard"
Hidden inside an unremarkable industrial building in Walthamstow is one of the largest neon collections in the world. It’s called Gods Own Junkyard, a family firm that’s been supplying neon signs to Londoners and the rest of the world for decades.
Entering the space packed with light sculptures, movie props and original fairground and circus lights is like walking into a warm sea of glowing light. It’s a candy land for the eyes, a mini Las Vegas. From the classic “Girls, Girls, Girls” to enormous light-bulb typography, from conceptual art paradoxes to commercial signs, the place echoes a bygone era - one filled with the American Dream, tattoo culture, sex, glamour but most of all, with a whole lot of fun.
Gods own Junkyard is the life’s work of its founder, Chris Bracey, who passed away in 2014. He learnt the trade at an early age from his father who made lights for fairgrounds and circuses. What started as a simple sign-maker business quickly grew into the go-to-place for original, new and vintage light art and signage of all kinds. The business took off for Chris in the ‘70s and ‘80s, when he moved into making neon signage for the notorious Soho strip joints. Besides that, he started salvaging light signs and other objects which he refashioned, repaired and resurrected. Following a chance encounter with a film director he begun making neon props for movie sets. His work can be seen in films such as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Eyes Wide Shut and Batman.
Two to three days a week, the space is rented out for photo and film shoots and other private events. Gods Own Junkyard’s neon lights grace the homes of many celebrities and demand for custom made works for artists and architects is high. Prices for pieces range between £350 and £35.000.
Towards the end of Chris’s illness, the family – his wife Linda and sons Marcus and Matt - began to take over the running of the business. The children were well prepared. Like Chris, Matt and Marcus learned their skills from their father.
The signs are not all easy glitziness. Many of the pieces are complex and require a huge amount of manual labor. Apart from the fact that there are more colors available today, neon manufacturing hasn’t changed since it was invented about 100 years ago. Neon signs are made of glass tubes that are cut and then bent over an open flame into a desired shape or lettering.
The most interesting thing, scientifically, is that the gas inside the tubes needs to be ionised (energised) in order to light up. That process is called bombarding. On a big table, called the bombarder, the ends of gas-filled signs are attached to positive and negative terminals. Then the bombarder hits it with 10’000 volts. “You have to keep your distance otherwise your hair will go sideways,” explains John, a long-term employee. After a while, like lightning in the clouds, a neon flicker appears and then the light comes on. When it’s ready to be put on the job a neon sign lasts for about 40 years.
Set up in the 1950’s, Gods own Junkyard is firmly established in Walthamstow but people come from all over to admire the wittily showcased neon works.
It’s definitely never a rainy day in there.
This article was published in the September 2016 issue of LoveEast Magazine
Marcus Bracey in his workshop (picture by God's Own Junkyard)
Bill Ellwood creating neon letters (picture by God's Own Junkyard)
East London Printmakers
Work desk at East London Printmakers
East London Printmakers’ (ELP) bi-annual open studio events are great to find wonderful and original printed artworks for sale at an affordable price. The events also offer an opportunity to gain insight into the vast range of artistic printing techniques. All the prints on show such as woodcut, etching, aquatint, drypoint, lino, collograph and screenprints, are made right there at the studio.
ELP is an artist run, not-for-profit organisation that opened in 1998 by a collective of about ten artists with a passion for printmaking. They aimed to provide professional and affordable printmaking facilities for artists and designers and also to create opportunities for them to collaborate, discuss and exhibit their work. In an industrial building – a former clothing factory - on Mare Street, ELP found the ideal space. They installed a few different print presses in one small room and set off printing.
Over time the studio started offering workshops, exhibitions and other events with the community. That brought in some money that could be used to buy more equipment and ELP was able to gradually expand.
Today, the organisation occupies two large, light-flooded rooms full of printmaking equipment. The back room houses everything needed for etching and relief printing. The salient items there are the beautiful, sturdy iron Albion presses (see image). The second space contains several vacuum tables for screenprinting and a large exposure unit used for photo-silkscreens.
ELP now has 46 key-holders – artists who use the studio in exchange for a monthly fee and responsibilities in helping to run the organisation - and about 250 affiliated members.
For anyone with some printmaking experience, ELP offers open access sessions. Those who haven’t got the knowledge yet or want to improve their technique can choose from a wide range of day and evening classes.
While the atmosphere in the studio is a relaxed and friendly bustle with artists absorbed in different stages of their work, there is a big behind-the-scenes thing going on there. Like many other places in the area, the studio has recently come under massive financial pressure and ELP see themselves forced to look for new premises.
“With the area changing as it is, we come to a point where there isn’t a calling for us here anymore,” says studio coordinator Susan Clark. “Lots of people from the creative sector are pushed out of the area, which makes ELP’s presence here redundant. We need to follow these people and find the next creative hub,” she explains.
That will still be in East London, she promises. “We want to be in traveling distance of everyone we got here at the moment.”
We wish ELP good luck in finding a great new space and hope that it won’t be too far from here.
For a full listing of classes and events see: https://www.eastlondonprintmakers.co.uk
This article appeared in the August 2016 issue of LoveEast Magazine
East London Printmakers - Pots an Plates
Albion Press in East London Printmakers Print Room
Maitreyaraja
Manager at London Buddhist Centre in Bethnal Green
It's almost 40 years since the London Buddhist Centre opened its doors on Roman Road – a rather exotic place on this lively East End high street. The building, an ornate Victorian re station, was vacated by London re services in 1969.
It became derelict before the Triratna Buddhist Community bought the place, renovated it and opened as the London Buddhist Centre (LBC) in 1978. The founder of the Triratna Order is Sangharakshita – an Englishman who spent over 20 years in India studying with different Buddhist teachers.
He initiated a new Buddhist tradition that translated essential principles of Buddhism and adapted them to the modern world.
It's this that led Maitreyarja, an ordained Buddhist and one of the centre's managers, to the LBC 18 years ago. “I was intrigued by how Buddhism can be made accessible, practicable and inspiring to an urban modern situation," he says. After studing psychology in London, he travelled to Thailand. His intellectual curiosity and a significant meditative experience at a monastery suggested to him that there was more to life than the mundane world, and his path eventually led to the LBC. His name, Maitreyarja, means Friendly King. “When you get ordained you get these big names which you are thought to grow into,” he explains.
Seeing the centre at lunchtime as a diverse group of people flock there for the open meditation sessions, it's obvious that the LBC has achieved its original goal. It is a thriving hub where Buddhists, as well as regular and occasional meditators converge.
Over the years, the LBC has become embedded in the neighbourhood. There's the centre itself and there are the communities: two men's and one women's community are located within the building, and three more nearby. There is also a number of Buddhist businesses locally – Lama's Pajamas, a vintage clothing shop; Jambala, a secondhand bookshop; the London Buddhist Art Centre, gallery and rehearsal spaces, and The Larder, a vegetarian restaurant. They are all separate independent charities but associated with the LBC. Besides offering a range of classes for a broad audience, the LBC also runs Breathing Space, a health and wellbeing wing that provides mindfulness-based courses for people suffering from depression, addiction and anxiety, and sessions for carers.
The centre is an urban retreat but it also runs an on-site centre in Suffolk. “It is essential for serious meditators to go on retreats,” says Maitreyarja. The retreat centre is currently being refurbished but will re-open in May 2016. Until then, the regular retreats are running in other places nearby (see their website for details).
Asked about what he thinks of the immense popularity of mindfulness, Maitreyaraja sees it as a positive thing and welcomes that more people practise it. For him, however, that's only one part of it. “There's so much more that Buddhism has to offer”
Does the area influence you? Yes, well I think it does in a sense that I’ve been based here for 21 years and have been working here for18 years. So obviously there are always local people coming in and I have been meeting them and talking to them and asking them about the locality as well.
What makes you most proud? When I was a young man I had many choices. But I’ve decided to put a large chunk of my life into deepening my own practice and working in a team to make that available to other people. One of the most satisfying things I do is to take people on retreats. We introduce them to meditation and a whole new way of living. I feel proud that I steadily followed through on that over a long period of time.
What are you working on now? At the moment, I work in the centre’s administration team. We're planning and scheduling for the re-opening of the retreat centre in 2016. I’m also the current season's events manager and I'm organising the Introductory Day for November. I’m also involved in the general management of the LBC.
Best coffee in these parts? I really recommend The Larder just next door.
Where do you eat out? Once again, The Larder. It’s a local business and it's really important for the centre that it does well. I eat there regularly and the food is very good.
What do you do at weekends? I like to read – Philip Pullman at the moment. This year I’ve been doing a number of Thames Path walks: the Rotherhithe to Greenwich is a good one. And then I do like to make the most of what London has to offer like galleries, theatre or the cinema.
Anything you would change? Well, one of the things around staying in the same situation for a long time is that some of the aspects of my work start to feel a bit samey. There is a desire for some new areas of work. I don’t know yet what it is and whether I'll find it here.
The area's best-kept secret? I don’t know about best-kept secret but I like Victoria Park and the Pavilion Café, especially in the morning. The light then is very nice.
East End in a word? Varied.
This article appeared in the November 2015 issue of LoveEast Magazine.
Mustafa
Expert Tailor
Mustafa in his studio in East London
I wonder how many times I’ve walked past Woolcrest Fabrics, located in a gap between buildings at 6 Well Street, without having had the slightest idea what treasures are to be found in this industrial brick warehouse.
Stacked from floor to ceiling, the infinite variety of colours and finishes of the fabrics can appear a bit overwhelming at first. But keep going and you will discover that everything is excellent value for money. There aren’t just fabrics to be discovered. With a clientele as vibrant as the merchandise, Woolcrest is one of the places that best represents the very essence of our neighbourhood. There is an African family animatedly discussing a selection of traditionally patterned fabrics, fashion students dressed in wonderfully outlandish clothes hunting for interesting materials for their latest projects, and women of diverse cultural backgrounds quietly browsing the oriental section of the warehouse.
And then I found Mustafa the tailor, the jewel in the crown. He sells fabrics once a week in exchange for a modest room right behind the warehouse. Mustafa is an affable, diligent and hardworking craftsman and very proud of his tailoring skills, and with good reason. He performs complicated alterations, expertly copies much-loved pieces of clothing, sews curtains and upholsters sofas and chairs. Indeed, his service goes beyond the perfect making of the items but he also takes a lot of trouble finding the right fabric or leather if it can’t be found at Woolcrest.
Born in Bulgaria, Mustafa emigrated to Bursa in Turkey with his family, where he spent most of his youth and began his training as a tailor. Since then he has lived in many places and worked in many professions. He was a gold merchant in Istanbul, a chef in Hannover and worked various jobs in Vienna before he came to London almost seven years ago. With no knowledge of English, he began working in a fish and chips shop. From the occasional tailoring he did in his spare time he quickly built a client base which eventually allowed him to give up his restaurant job.
Mustafa is extremely happy, now that he is able to live entirely from his craft. “From all the different jobs I’ve done, this is by far my favorite”, he says.
Mustafa in Woolcrest
In front of his room/studio with his geraniums
Musti can be reached at 07948 222045 or ask for him at Woolcrest on Saturdays between 9 a.m and 3 p.m.
This article appeared in the April 2016 issue of LoveEast Magazine.
AB Fine Art Foundry
The corridors of this beautiful Victorian warehouse and former dog biscuit factory are lined with bizarrely shaped moulds. In one huge room Gary Hume's shiny silver snowman sits forlornly in a dusty corner awaiting restoration. Pieces of an enormous pumpkin by Yayoi Kusama are ready to be welded together, and Gavin Turk's Self Portrait bronze statue is draped in cloth, restoration complete, waiting to be collected. In another room, American filmmaker and artist Philip Haas watches as his double-faced Francis Bacon wax cast is taken out of its mould.
Despite the foundry's glittering clientele, which reads like a Who's Who of the world's most celebrated artists (Tracy Emin, Anish Kapoor, Antony Gormley to name a few), Jerry Hughes, the foundry’s manager, is refreshingly down to earth. He has run the place with Henry Abercrombie, the foundry's MD, since 1992 and is unfazed by the artworks that surround him. Jerry introduces us to bronze casting – a craft that dates back thousands of years – and in particular “lost wax casting”.
Once the artist's idea has materialised into a model, a mould is made from its shape. The inside of the mould is then covered with molten wax, and once cooled and hardened, the wax copy of the original model is removed from the mould. Next, a system of wax tubes, which provide ducts for pouring the metal during casting, are attached to the outside of the wax copy. The copy with its tubes is then dipped into a slurry of silica and covered with a sand-like crystalline silica. When heated in the kiln, the wax copy melts. More heat is added and the combination of slurry and grit transforms into a ceramic material that withstands the heat and pressure of molten metal.
The molten metal – bronze mostly – is then heated and poured into the ceramic shell, filling the space left by the wax (hence “lost wax casting”). The next day, the cast is released and the sculpture receives the finishing touches.
Every step in the process requires a great deal of skill, and that's evident in the 20 or so employees who work there. Some are artists themselves and most of them have been to art school. It was great to see so many skilled people at work, and there was a warm, family-like atmosphere at the foundry. But there was also a bit of magic in the air when after many laborious steps a sculpture is completed and stands there and shines in all its glory.
This article appeared in the January 2015 issue of LoveEast Magazine
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Fi Glover
Broadcaster and Writer
Fi Glover is a radio presenter whose voice will be familiar to many of you who tune in to BBCs Radio 4. Fascinated by radio from a very early age she was determined to become a broadcaster. After studying she joined the BBC as a trainee reporter and has presented many programs over the years. Listening to her on radio it’s obvious that she loves the medium as she is incredibly engaging and very natural.
She grew up in Winchester with her mother and her sister, while her dad worked in Hong Kong. Her childhood was characterized by a lot of travelling between the two places. After studying classical history and philosophy at the University of Kent she set foot in London permanently. It felt like a big leap when she eventually moved to Dalston 15 years ago. The area was rough and had a bad reputation, but Fi liked it from the very first moment. It was the affordable house prices that made her consider it but – more importantly – she immediately felt a huge affinity for the place. Quite contrary to her restless upbringing, Fi has become deeply rooted in Hackney, where she still lives with her husband and two children. “Just the thought of moving away from here makes her feel uncomfortable”, she says.
These days, Fi can he heard in two different Radio 4 broadcasts. The Listening Project, which records people’s conversations across the UK, is a format where people have rare and meaningful conversations with each other. The conversations are archived and preserved for future generations. These aural snapshots of our lives are very close to Fi’s heart - not least because they make participants happy, almost without exception. The show is incredibly popular and attracts 2 million listeners a week. The other, Two Rooms, involves two groups of voters sharing their contrasting experiences and feelings about how society in Britain is changing. It runs up until the general elections in May
Bar a stint presenting BBC2’s The Travel Show in the 1990s and participating in the Celebrity Bake Off in 2012, Fi has rarely been on screen. She’s not being recognized on the street (except by her voice sometimes) and likes it that way, she says. This might change though. Fi is currently on television once more fronting the new history reality series ’24 Hours in the Past’.
As much as she enjoys doing TV programs once in a while, she is definitely more at home at the radio. “It’s a comfortable, fuzzy, and lovely place to be”. One has no doubt that this is true when says that in her extraordinarily harmonious, calm and warm voice.
What drew you to Hackney? I moved to Dalston in 1999 - I just liked it. Way back then it was an affordable part of town too. Although a bugger to get to from Television Centre in W12. I think I liked that fact too!
Does the area influence your work? Yes - it has done hugely. We have lived in several different parts of Hackney and Dalston over the last two decades and every one of them has a sense of community - every one has a different identity, every one has had wonderful people within it. Basically I chat for a living, and Hackney still chats!
What makes you most proud? My kids. And Mr Jones. Obv. (I am officially a Mrs Jones these days...). And also ‚The Listening Project’
What are you working on now? I've just finished a BBC 1 history show called 24 Hours in the Past - it's proper dirty, filthy, squalid living history where 6 well known people have to work like proper Victorians. It's gorgeous and I don't want to give too much away but former Home Office Minister Anne Widdicombe spends a bit of time in a punishment cell. I never thought I'd get to introduce that!
Best coffee in these parts? Mmm. At home probably.
Where do you eat out? The Prince George, Bella Vita and Rotorinho for special nights. We walk home from school past Violet. Sometimes we succumb.
What do you do at the weekend? At the moment we do football, then football, then some gymnastics, then more football. (they are 9 and 7...)
Anything you would change? I don't like the high rises.
Hackney's best-kept secret? Well if I told you then......
If Hackney were human? Sheila Hancock
Hackney in a word? Home.
This interview appeared in the May 2015 issue of E9 Magazine
Jo Davies
Ceramicist
Jo at work in her studio (image: Jo Davies and Layton Thompson)
Jo Davies’s love of ceramics was kindled as a young teenager at school when she had the opportunity to work on a pottery project. The intensity of the work and the encouragement of the teacher changed her way of thinking and gave her a foundation of self-esteem. “I just loved the material, its malleability and the fact that I could be so autonomous with just the hands as my tools,” she explains. She also admits that she was incredibly naïve back then. Ceramic is a very complex material. There are different clays, many ways of firing it and that’s before you start to think about glaze, where the possibilities are infinite.
While studying in Bath and later at the Royal College of Art, she came to love those tricky elements of her craft. A harder nut to crack for her was the fact that ceramic traditions, such as British studio ceramics, Stoke-on-Trent bone china or South East Asian traditions, seemed to weight heavily on what is seen as right or wrong way to produce ceramics. Jo rebelled against that. She wanted to work more creatively, artistically - with a mind unclouded by traditional requirements.
Jo comes from a sculptural point of view. “I wanted to be an artist - with a capital A - and was probably massively pretentious,” she says. Her earlier pottery work was mainly wall pieces, and nothing with a practical use. This changed during her time at the RCA when she started to focus on making functional ware. Vases are her favorite things to make. “They are nice sculptural vehicles that have a use – just about.”
Over the years, Jo has developed a unique aesthetic that fuses simplicity with humorous details. She works exclusively in hand-thrown porcelain and sticks to her signature black and white glazes (with occasional gilded gold leaf details).
It is fascinating to see how she morphs a basic piece of clay into a sophisticated object. Guided by Jo’s skillful hands, the clay on the throwing wheel takes the shape of a cone before it is transformed into a beehive and then opened up to give it a vessel shape. She smoothly and effortlessly pulls up the sides and brings them in a clear form. Once the object has dried a bit overnight it becomes more receptive and can be further shaped and sculptured.
“I slowly move and build tension in the body of the piece to really sharpen up the form.”
She uses sponges and her hands to make sure the final piece reflects the liquidity of the clay and the flow of the throwing process. This procedure happens over the course of a few days until it is ready to go into the kiln. Once it comes out it’s sanded and then glazed. The glazes have a very liquid, satin and tactile feel and further enhance the tension of the piece. For Jo, the way an object feels is equally important as the way it looks.
Asked if she’s still a bit rebellious she admits to still feeling a bit as an outsider in ceramics. Having said that, she acknowledges that she has just been selected for the Craft Potters Association. “I’m glad that they like what I’m doing but, oh my god, this is pottery establishment. It is a bit weird.”
Jo’’s full range of items can be bought from her webshop: www.jo-davies.com. She offers tuition in wheel-thrown porcelain as well as a kiln firing service. Studio visits are welcome, please get in touch with her to arrange.
This article appeared in the July 2016 issue of LoveEast Magazine.
Jo Davies’ Studio
Ceramics made by Jo Davies
Julia Cook
Jeweller and owner of Branch on the Park
Julia at her workbench (image by Madeleine Waller)
Nestled in the heart of Victoria Park Village is Branch on the Park, an independent jewellery store, founded by goldsmith Julia Cook. She opened her shop in 2010 after working from a studio in Soho for many years following her studies at Central Saint Martins.
The jewellery pieces are presented in wood-framed glass cabinets that reminded me of displays often seen in natural history museums. It’s topical, as most of Julia’a jewellery pieces are nature-themed or inspired by historic ornaments.
A recurring motif in Julia’s jewellery is leaves. They come in different shapes as ornate earrings, bracelets, pendants, brooches and necklaces. The delicate pieces are cut from silver or gold sheets and placed between two pieces of coarse paper before they're pressed trough a rolling mill. The paper gives each leaf a unique, slightly uneven imprint. In her workshop at the rear of the shop, Julia solders by hand all the elements that compose each piece of jewellery, and which makes every one a little different.
It’s the playful combination of stones – precious and semi-precious – and handcrafted gold or silver settings that make Julia’s style very distinctive. Her pieces convey lightness and positivity and you could imagine that these attributes transfer to the wearer. The many cards and photos from grateful and happy customers are certainly testament to that.
Besides the shop in the village, Julia also runs the webshop Blossoming Branch, with a large range of items for sale.
Even though it is time-consuming Julia loves talking to customers about their ideas for a commissioned piece. "It’s very personal because jewellery is sentimental. It’s a privilege to play a part in those moments in people’s lives,” she explains.
Branch on the Park, 27 Victoria Park Road, E9, or online at Blossoming Branch www.branchonthepark.co.uk
This article appeared in the January 2015 issue of LoveEast Magazine
Emma Leslie and Rhiannon Wilkey
Furniture Makers and Designers at Studio LW
“I wanted to work with wood because it felt quiet - sort of Zen.” Emma says and Rhiannon agrees. You wouldn’t believe that when you first enter the massive workspace full of enormous, noisy machines. They share this space in a converted shed on Stratford High Street with Turner Prize winning architect collective “Assemble”. But Studio LW also have their own workshop located in a separate little room and it actually does feel serene and peaceful in there, and so are the furniture pieces they make. Clean, elegant lines are mixed up with subtle details such as a different colour for a drawer-front or an unexpected way of strutting the legs of a chair. It’s the quality of the craftsmanship in combination with simple yet original and functional design that makes each piece a standout object.
Studio LW produces all kinds of furniture - from individual bespoke commissions to their own design collection (see a selection of items in their webshop) and artist collaborations. The duo also makes smaller objects like candlesticks and wooden bowls, which they turn on the lathe and bring into form by hand with a chisel.
Both, Emma and Rhiannon, have worked in other professions before retraining in furniture and cabinet making. Emma had a career in the film industry and Rhiannon has a psychology degree. What they had in common was a love of beautifully made things and an urge to work with their hands. That’s why they signed up for a 2-year full-time class at the Building Crafts College, and that is also where the two met.
This year, Studio LW started their own school - The East London School of Furniture Making where they teach furniture making and woodwork courses to all skill levels. Studio LW also offers bespoke courses for groups, as well as home tutoring. They hope to encourage people to set up and make things at home with a few simple tools and without the need to have access to a fully equipped workshop.
It is of particular concern to Emma and Rhiannon to pave the way for other women to learn the craft. Even though the number of females in the profession has gone up, the ratio is still very small. To make woodworking more accessible for all women, they will run a free workshop for women with low or no income. See Studio LW’s website for dates.
This article appeared in the March issue of LoveEast Magazine
Kat B
The Multi-Talented Entertainer
Kat B (on the right) in his role as snowman at Hackney Empire's Jack and the Beanstalk pantomime (photo by Hackney Gazette)
Kat B is a firework of a man. He bursts into the quiet corner of Stage 3 café like a small explosion and smiles from the beginning of the interview to the end. His positive energy is infectious. He's cheerful and light-hearted and doesn’t hide his excitement about his many achievements.
So far, he's best known as an entertainer – he's currently playing the snowman in Hackney Empire's Jack and the Beanstalk – but Kat B has many strings to his bow and is determined to get as much out of life as he can. I don't doubt for a minute that he will realise all his ambitions.
Growing up in Stratford and Hackney he played a lot of youth theatre. His career started when he was asked to do a gig as a dancer with MTV. From there he went on to become one of their presenters. Susie McKenna, Hackney Empire’s creative director, discovered him when he was appearing in The Wiz and offered him a job. That was 15 years ago. Except for the one year when the Empire was closed for renovations, he has had a role in every panto since. This year’s performance marks his ninth consecutive appearance, and with that, he joins Charlie Chaplin in the Empire's history books.
Despite the strains – during panto season Kat does 12 shows per week – the Christmas pantos have been a thoroughly positive experiences for him. He's given the freedom to shape his stage characters and make them more personal. He can identify with all the roles he's played so far. This makes it more interesting for him to perform and also more authentic and lively for the audience. Asked if he gets tired of playing the same show over and over again he says that the audience is upbeat and energetic and that this rubs off on him. “It’s exhausting but in a very positive way. Laughter is medicine.”
To wind down, Kat regularly disappears underneath the stage. If anyone asks what he's doing, they're advised to just leave him in peace. What happens in the sub-stage workshop is Kat’s unique woodwork. "Some people smoke, some drink, I make stuff,” he says. As if that wasn't enough to keep him busy, he visits schools to run workshops in storytelling, scriptwriting, movement and music. He's a regular comedian at the Starlite Weekenders all across the world, hosts radio programmes, and prepares for his own one-man stand-up show. With his entertainer hat off, he's studying for his degree in animal psychology. “Lots of actors are unemployed so I have to prepare for that as well.” Next year, his cookbook Kooking with Kat will be launched, and Kat can be booked for massages (yes, really) or to have an event covered via aerial images he shoots with his remote-control drone. “It’s no joke. People think I’m doing comedy when I mention all my activities, but no... It’s all true.”
What drew you to the area? I grew up here. I am a proper East Londoner. Stratford, Hackney... My cousin, Eddie Nestor lives just down the road. He said “You, you're a bit wayward, I take you under me wing”. Now he's proud of me as I am focused on something.
Does the area influence you? Everything influences me. When I’m in Hackney it feels like I'm at home. Everyone embraces me – all the shops know me. I couldn’t do anything (bad) in Hackney. Everybody would say, "You are a role model, you can’t do that...”
What makes you most proud? The fact that I can watch family members being inspired by what I do. That people all over the world tell me they like what I am doing. Being dyslexic and make another dyslexic people feel like they can do stuff. Teaching them a method that works for them and giving them confidence.
What are you working on now? Tons of things (see above) and I’m also doing a draft for a wildlife program with the BBC. I’m filming a series about street fighting for online TV and I produce my own videos. They are amazing!
Best coffee in these parts? Here's good (Stage 3, Mare Street) and Ed’s Café around the corner is very welcoming, very chilled in there. Sometimes I go to Appetite. It depends how strong you want your coffee...
Where do you eat out? It depends... Ed’s, or there is a Vietnamese noodle place (on Graham Road). The Picturehouse is good for cakes. They have a lovely apple and Earl Grey cake. I buy two pieces for myself, and one to share with everybody else. And here at Stage 3 the food is greeeeeat! I don’t like to share my food when I eat here. It’s too delicious.
What do you do at weekends? I might be scribbling ideas down because as soon as an idea pops in I write it down – or sing it into my phone. I like to cook or bake. So me and nanny James (she'll cry if she reads this) we like to make things and cook for all the grandchildren.
Anything you would change? I wouldn’t change anything. Everything is a learning curve and the scars I have remind me of it. There is no limit to what you can do only the limit of your own imagination. If you fall down, pick yourself up. Learn from it. It’s in the past. Always own everything. If you make a mistake, own it.
The area's best-kept secret? That it's not scared to grow, it’s not scared to love, it’s not scared to shout. It’s not scared to do anything. Before people said: “Oh, Hackney is so horrible, so run-down”. But when you come here you go “wow!” Just come to my monthly club night The Boum Boum Room and you'll see what I mean.
If Hackney were human? Your mum. If you're from the East End you feel safe here. If you're not you see that it's like a mini London, all condensed into one area. It’s so multi- cultural. It’s like being home with your mum.
This interview appeared in the December 2015 issue of LoveEast Magazine
After Kat B's pantomime performance
Jane Ní Dhulchaointigh
Inventor and CEO of Sugru
Sugru founder Jane Ni'Dhulchaointigh (image provided by Sugru)
On the ground foor of an old factory complex just off Well Street, something quite extraordinary is happening. According to a secret formula, colourful emulsions are mixed in a machine that looks like a giant dough kneader. The finished material is then divided up into small pieces and packed away into shiny little silver sachets. What happens here is the production of the world’s first mouldable glue – Sugru. It sticks to almost anything and turns into a strong and flexible rubber overnight – think play dough with superglue powers. Sugru can be used for any number of small DIY projects to make improvements and repairs on gadgets, appliances, toys and many other items. Once cured, it stays flexible and at the same time strongly bonds in all kinds of conditions. Sugru is so simple to use that it allows people to solve everyday problems on their own, without the help of a specialist.
Jane Ní Dhulchaointigh (pronounced nee-gull- queen-tigg) is the woman behind it all. Her childhood was spent on a farm in Ireland and that informed many of her values. “Growing up on a farm is almost the opposite of shopping – you grow food, prepare food, mend things and constantly improvise solutions,” she says. Sugru for Jane is an antidote to the throwaway mentality. She came to London to study product design
at the Royal College of Art, and while she was experimenting with various materials, she came up with a prototype of Sugru – using it to fix things around her house. That’s when the idea to create a fix-it-all material was born.
She started with just two people in a studio in Bethnal Green and it took her six years (and 8,000 lab hours) to come up with the perfect formula. Her goal was for the product to be in everybody’s kitchen drawer, and that’s what Jane and the company set out to make a reality.
Sugru launched in 2010 and the first 1,000 packets sold out in only a few hours. Today, Sugru is sold in over 6,000 stores and has more than one million users in 160 different countries. The Hackney-based company now employs 45 people. Interestingly, they have never needed to worry much about advertising the product. That’s done for them by the customers. Every few hours, someone uploads a picture on social media demonstrating Sugru’s usefulness.
The company is growing with enormous speed, but for Jane the most thrilling aspect of Sugru’s global success is the chance to promote a culture of creativity and resourcefulness. It’s what she has been passionate about from the very beginning and something she has never has lost sight of.
What drew you to Hackney? When I finished at the RCA I lived in West London. All the creative community I was friendly with lived in East London. Our first studio was in Bethnal Green and when we needed a bigger space we moved to Hackney. Once here we decided to stay in the area. You get kind of stuck here...
Does the area influence your work? Yes, there is something very nice about Hackney and that’s the sense of community here. There are a lot of other local companies we meet up with and share things with. For example, Technology Will Save Us in Vyner Street. With them and some other Hackney companies we went to New York for a joint project during New York Design Week. Internationally, Hackney’s reputation as a creative place is really growing. Hackney Council realise this and is busy promoting it as a location for foreign creative companies.
What makes you most proud? Probably two things. I’m very proud when I see how enthusiastic Sugru users are about the product. When I see that in action I think like “Oh, this is amazing...!” Also, there’s the atmosphere in the company. We have a really great collaborative team. People work hard but it’s also very rewarding. Hearing all the stories of how Sugru is used gives everyone a big sense of meaning and it’s very motivating for the team. I’m proud of that.
What are you working on now? We have just finished this huge crowd funding round. Now we have to figure out our plan for the United States. We have so many retailers there now – about 5,000 – but that will grow to 10,000 by the end of the year.
Best coffee in these parts? I don’t drink coffee, I drink tea. But I know people here are very big fans of Climpson & Sons and the E5 Bakehouse. I’m a fan of E5 Bakehouse because they have lovely mugs for tea.
Where do you eat out? Lunchwise probably E5 Bakehouse or Climpson. I love the Pavillion in Victoria Park. It is fab, especially in the summer.
What do you do at the weekend? We tend to travel a good bit. We go away one weekend in a month. The rest of the time tends to be fairly low key because work is so full on. We are doing up our house bit by bit. We do a lot of homey stuff like going out with the dog, seeing friends, etc. I find Hackney is so friendly – I think we know people in about 10 houses in our street.
Anything you would change? I am a little concerned how expensive everything is getting. For a lot of our staff and even for Sugru we don’t know how much longer we can stay here. That would be something I would change... or that properties are a bit more protected from residential development. When we moved into this building, there were 12 businesses. Now they’ve developed the rest of the building into luxury flats and we
are the only business left. To me that is a bit sad because we are creating jobs.
Hackney’s best-kept secret? Obviously Climpson’s Arch because I haven’t heard of the Thai restaurant there until just now. And the London Fields Lido is pretty special, but I’m not sure it’s a secret. It’s always so busy.
If Hackney were human? A very old eccentric person with a unique sense of style and humour.
Hackney in a word? Layered
This article appeared in the August 2015 issue of E9 Magazine
Tina Roth Eisenberg
De-siloing creativity
Tina Roth Eisenberg is a Swiss designer based in Brooklyn, New York. She is best known for founding and running a global monthly lecture series called CreativeMornings, the SwissMiss design blog and the first creative co-working space in NYC called Friends Work Here. She’s also the founder of Tattly, a designy temporary tattoo shop. Because of the popularity of her blog, she’s often referred to as SwissMiss.
Tina Roth Eisenberg hosting a Creative Morning event in NYC
Soon Tina will have lived half her life in Switzerland and half in New York City. She truly feels, at this point, that both places are equally home for her. She has a vivid memory of her first day in NYC in 1999. When she came out of the Wall Street subway station, she was surprised that everyone was walking as fast as she was. “I’ve always been too fast in Switzerland. I consistently had to hit the brakes: In the way I walked, in the way I talked, in the way my mind operated,” Tina says with the hearty laugh she is famous for. “It was liberating to see that my pace and my level of energy and enthusiasm were welcome and fueled here.”
Tina Roth Eisenberg, aka SwissMiss, is the head of a small design empire. Her accomplishments include a blog, a co-working space, a temporary tattoo company, and CreativeMornings, a monthly breakfast lecture series.
To her, it felt that doors just opened when she arrived in NYC – things just happened and flowed. She had one interview for an internship lined up and got hired on the spot. A few weeks later, the design studio owner offered her a full-time job and a work visa. Tina believes this was mainly due to her not having an ounce of doubt that she could make it. “There is real power in not having resistance in your mind,” she says.
Tina lives in the top apartment of a typical Brooklyn brownstone house with her two children (a boy aged 12 and a girl aged 16), a cat and a dog. “We should teach our children that they need to find the path that lights them up, to find the thing that gets them so excited. I’m a true believer that money will follow. You're like a magnet when you are high-vibing, happy, and fulfilled in the thing you do.”
In that way, Tina is the best role model for her children. Tina’s career has evolved and developed entirely organically. She’s not the kind of person that operates according to a business plan. Her path is wholly guided by what lights her up and feels right. Usually, it starts with an idea for something useful for herself or others. That’s why she is sometimes called the queen of accidental business.
That’s also how, in 2004, she accidentally became an international blogger celebrity. Her hugely popular blog – swiss-miss.com – at first only served her as a personal visual archive and to share things she found and loved with her friends. A year into blogging, she looked at her stats and, to her surprise, saw that more and more people tuned in to read her posts. At the blog's heyday, the blog had 2 million readers a month, and the name SwissMiss became a household name in the design world.
The name SwissMiss was a spontaneous choice because that’s what everybody called her at the time. Over the coming years, it would become her moniker on the internet and social media. For her, the name still rings true. “I’m proud and grateful for my roots and would not neglect or deny them. I’m here for it; I like SwissMiss!”
The blog opened many doors for Tina. It gave her credibility as a tastemaker and design expert. Six years later, after years of sharing and celebrating other peoples’ work, she found herself at the receiving end when she launched Tattly, a company selling ‘designy’ temporary tattoos. Posting about it on her blog was enough to push sales through the roof from the get-go.
By the way, Tattly is also an accidental business. Tina was tired of sticking tacky tattoos on her daughter's arm and took things into her own hands. She launched the first range of temporary tattoos designed by renowned artists, which not long after were sold in shops all over the world.
Another personal itch of Tina’s that became a successful business was the founding of NYC’s first creative co-working space. She didn’t want to work alone or at home when she started her design studio in 2006 but to share space and knowledge with like-minded people. She dreamed up her ideal workspace and made it a reality, starting with six desks that grew to 65 over the years. “I realized the magic that unfolds when you’re gathering with people that are, sort of, feeding off each other, complementing each other.”
Tina’s ‘Friends work here’ co-working space in Brooklyn
The community of her co-working space provided the breeding ground for another of Tina’s brainchildren. For a long time, she’s been hatching the idea of creating genuinely accessible events for creatively-minded people. Within her community of co-workers, she began prototyping what they could look like. The result is CreativeMornings, Tina’s widest-reaching project and the one closest to her heart. Its intention is simple: breakfast and a short talk one Friday morning a month, free of charge and open to anyone.
Tina makes a point, which applies to everything she does, and says a lot about her unbiased and generous mindset that the creative community she has in mind doesn’t exclude anyone. “Living your life is a creative act. Everybody is creative. Everybody is welcome.’
The number of CreativeMornings attendees grew month by month, and soon agencies wanted to host and sponsor the events. The first chapters outside NYC were Zurich and LA, more cities followed, and CreativeMornings grew into the world's largest face-to-face creative community with monthly happenings in 225 cities in 67 countries. That’s 25’000 people coming together every month. CreativeMornings has just celebrated its 14th birthday. There’s a lot to celebrate and to be proud of, not least that it has survived the pandemic.
Tina doesn’t miss the hands-on designing from her early days in NYC. “It feels like I’m designing on another level now. I’m designing communities, experiences, how events feel, how companies feel, and how spaces for humans feel. I don’t care about font sizes anymore,” Tina explains.
How did this happen? Tina grew up in the village of Speicher in the canton of Appenzell Ausserrhoden, surrounded by hills, mountains, fresh air and farms with brown cows. She would walk to school for 40 minutes one way, then home for lunch, and back to school again. “This blows my kids’ minds,” Tina laughs, “They can’t believe this.” One of her fondest childhood memories is the ski lift they had in front of their house. It was a small lift with nightlights, and she and her friends would go skiing every evening in the winter. “I had a very lucky, privileged, nature-rooted upbringing.”
School came very easy to Tina. She remembers her school days in Switzerland very fondly and is grateful for her education. Her singular passion for organizing and lifting ideas off the ground was manifest by her high school years when she ran the student council, published a school newspaper, and organized events. “I love to grassroots organize people, get them excited about an idea, and convince them to help make it happen,” she explains. “I didn’t know what it was back then,” Tina muses, “but I realize that I’ve always had an entrepreneurial mindset.”
Tina knew early on that a creative profession would make her happy. But to realize it, she had to push back against the resistance from her parents, both entrepreneurs, who imagined a more conventional and, most of all, more financially stable career for their daughter. “I don’t blame them. When you grow up in Switzerland, stability and linearity of your resume is what everyone tells you is of utter importance,” she smirks.
Tina always wanted to go to America. “It was just like something was calling me. I can’t put my finger on why.” After finishing her degree in communication design at the Fachhochschule Munich, at age 25, the time for America was ripe. “I genuinely believed I would go to New York for three months and then start working in Zurich.” Now 23 years later, she’s still there.
Tina thought she’d eventually go back and get married and have kids in Europe. But when, one rainy day in the city, she met the father of her children (he offered her shelter under his umbrella), that was when Tina realized that she might stay forever.
Tina’s children feel very connected to their Swiss roots. They spend every summer holiday in Switzerland, mainly in the Appenzell region, and keep close ties with Swiss family members. Her 16-year-old daughter intends to go and live in Switzerland for a year at some point. Tina realizes that she sometimes alienates people when visiting her home country. “I’m more direct and set clear boundaries. That surprises people who think I’m still the old Swiss Tina.”, she explains. On the other hand, parts of her – like her tidiness and reliability – have remained profoundly Swiss. ”I try to merge the best of the two cultures.” Tina explains.
It’s been a busy few years for Tina, and one wonders how she could juggle so many balls. She gives her teams, who have been running her organizations, much credit for their successes. “Because I’m so multi-focused, I had to relinquish control and trust people. When you trust good, smart people, they will expand and surprise themselves.”
The time has come for Tina to scale back a bit. She is grateful for the clarity that the pandemic brought. She also sold Tattly earlier this year and has more time to focus on the most important thing to her - CreativeMornings. She sees that as her legacy. “My goal is to get the business model to a place where it is stable and can work for the next 100 years, and it’s not going to depend on me.” Tina sees much potential in these gatherings of humans and their impact on people’s lives and the world, and she will focus her efforts on achieving this goal.
Tina is excited to see what the future brings. Maybe she’ll start writing a book, or perhaps there are more accidental businesses in her to materialize. While it’s not clear yet what, something will surely emerge. Stay tuned!
Beau enjoying the view from Tina’s office
This article appeared in the 2022/23 publication ‘Bonebridge goes America’ for Bonebridge.