Pictograms 30 July - 9 November Japan House High Street Kensington admission free 2018 as a venue to share and celebrate Japanese culture and design. And what could be more Japanese than the pictogram - a suite of graphic symbols that convey meaning through symbolic representation? The latest exhibition celebrates their use but also aims to educate and foster a deeper understanding of graphic design, and is described as a masterclass in the simplicity of communicating without words. It's been set up in the basement so be aware the lift's currently not working, and it's a shame they wrote the 'Lift not in use' sign in words rather than displaying the message as a pictogram. giant black pictograms. It manages to be both the perfect selfie-backdrop and also fulsomely educational throughout, and I hope you won't mind if I focus on the latter. minimalist silhouette designs conjured up by Katsumi Masaru and Yoshiro Yamashita to guide visiting spectators to the correct sporting venue certainly made a lasting impact. Also it's a shame they went to all the effort of redesigning them again for the 2020 Games and thanks to the pandemic hardly any foreigners turned up. 176 emoji, each restricted to 12×12 pixels, and included twelve zodiac signs, five red hearts, two feline faces, a cutlery set and a rocking horse. What precisely would best depict an apple, for example, to ensure understanding across all boundaries and cultures? Should icons be depicted from the front, the side or looking down from on top, and all because the essence of a 3D object has to be condensed into a recognisable 2D representation? And if it's movement you're depicting, which part should be the snapshot you use? Looking at a silhouette walking, for example, it soon becomes clear that only one properly captures the intended motion. The exhibition ends with a do-it-yourself section. A bunch of London schoolchildren were asked to design their own pictograms on a square grid, and the professionally-tweaked results clearly resemble Tower Bridge, a wrap of fish and chips, a cargo bike and the intimate emotion 'I love my dog'. There's also a lightbox where you can shuffle shapes to make your own pictogram designs. I quickly knocked up the silhouette below to represent 'diamond geezer', although I confess to relying heavily on a shape the gallery assistants had laid out in advance and I am by no means that rotund in real life. exhibition's on until November, but ➨ 🇯🇵🏠︎ 🕙︎-🕗︎ 🔍︎ 👍︎☺

Gadabout: CHESTERFIELD Chesterfield is the largest town in Derbyshire, but only because Derby is a city. It lies 10 miles south of Sheffield, sandwiched between the Peak District and the M1 on the edge of an abandoned coalfield. But it's best known for the twisted spire of its parish church, a truly jarring sight on the local skyline, which I inevitably ended up taking far too many photos of. There are alas rather fewer other reasons to visit, at least at present while many attractions are being upgraded, but join me to discover a lot of half-timbered shops, a narrow canal, some street art, a tailoring pioneer and the Rocket man's last resting place. [Visit Chesterfield] [20 photos] The church with the wonky spire is St Mary and All Saints, not just the most famous church in all of Derbyshire but also the largest. It sits on slightly higher ground in an otherwise lowrise town, placing the pinnacle of engineering catastrophe on full public view. Not only does the spire have a 45 degree twist but the tip additionally leans 2.9 metres off centre which is how it manages to look impossibly awry from all angles. There are many stories to explain how the disfigurement occurred, many of them involving virgins and/or the Devil, but the most convincing reason is that when 14th century craftsmen installed insufficient cross-bracing they weren't anticipating the 17th century addition of 32 tons of lead sheeting. up by the shops. Get too close, say within the churchyard itself, and the optical illusion fades somewhat as the lines of perspective converge. The worst place to see it is of course inside the church itself, although you're welcome within and they run tours up the tower on Fridays and Saturdays for a tenner. It is indeed a fine old church, fundamentally medieval but extensively restored by Gilbert Scott in the 1840s, and fortuitously not destroyed in 1961 when a nasty fire came within 3 minutes of engulfing the spire. Do try to ignore the knitted blue sprite tied to the top of the font, an aberration that turns out to be part of a brazenly evangelical treasure hunt for kids. The spire gives its name to all sorts of local organisations and establishments. There's an office block called Spire Walk, a housing estate called The Spires, a new children's home called Spire House and a Spire Cycling Club founded in 1889. The local council features the spire prominently in its logo, more stylistically today than was once the case, and the nickname of League 2 stalwarts Chesterfield FC is 'The Spireites'. The most twisted incarnation I saw was an inking parlour on Sheffield Road called Crooked Spines Tattoo, which is perhaps pushing things too far as if Chesterfield were a one-idea creative town. » At this point I would have gone to the Tourist Information Centre outside but the council closed it last year, preferring to go digital-first to save money. The octagonal rotunda is now only used by roosting pigeons and is currently fenced off while workmen attack the paving outside. There were plans to bring the building back to life as a 'Crooked Spire Experience' but that never made it into the most recent regeneration plans so I assume the idea's dead. » At this point I would have gone to Chesterfield Museum but alas it's long-term closed. It's undergoing an 'ambitious' £17m transformation along with the Pomegranate Theatre nextdoor, and has been since 2022 when the planned reopening date was 2024. It's now 2026, and although I expect the end result will be impressive the temporary absence does substantially reduce the town's visitor draw. » At this point I would have gone to the Market Place, one of England's largest, but it was substantially sealed off. I watched workmen adding canopies for permanent stalls and making gaps in the paving for more trees, this part of the council's consolidation of the remaining traders into a smaller area. Admittedly the market doesn't normally operate on a Tuesday anyway, also the Market Hall is always open with its imposing Italianate tower and contemporary interior, but for the full Chesterfield experience it's basically come back later. The shops are pretty decent though, sprawled across a large pedestrianised area between the church and the Town Hall. Many are in attractive half-timbered premises, this because progressives chose to demolish several streets in the 1920s and the town architect at the time had a penchant for rebuilding in Tudor Revival style. Some of the finest black and white examples are along the delightfully-named Knifesmithgate, indeed stand on the corner with Packers Row and you could almost be in Chester, except the boutiques are less fancy and the most impressive turrety facade now conceals a Premier Inn. [Town Trail] [Black & White Trail] [54 page walk] The Yorkshire Building Society really does trade in a 16th century building, also the Peacock Inn just down the street which may once have been a Tudor Guildhall. The Royal Oak at the heart of The Shambles is even older, although the Victorians eradicated most of the surrounding enclave and all that remains is the twisty medieval street pattern. The most consequential shop must be Britain's first Burtons, opened in 1904 when a Lithuanian immigrant set up as a gentleman's outfitter on Holywell Street. He became Sir Montague Burton and tailored the nation from often-ornate premises, although the Chesterfield store on Burlington Street alas closed in 2016 and is now a particularly large branch of Greggs. The council have been installing public artwork around the town since 1994, including a purple resin puppy in Theatre Yard and a huge steel flower in the middle of the Horns Bridge roundabout. The two most significant works may be those tucked away behind the Future Walk building on West Bars, which is home to the Post Office's Finance Service Centre. One is a Barbara Hepworth called Curved Reclining Form - a tad smaller than I was expecting and with two limestone voids. Opposite is Poise by Angela Conner, seemingly a static stone disc but when it's windy the six strips flap independently and appealingly. Sorry, I should have taken a video rather than a photo. Across the main road is Queen's Park - part cricket ground, part lake, part kickabout and part sports centre. Here an unusual diamond sculpture celebrates the Queen's penultimate jubilee, each of 60 facets engraved with questionably significant events, including the opening of a nearby hospice, heavy local flooding and the founding of Twitter. Chesterfield's chief river is the Rother, the watercourse that ultimately gives Rotherham its name. It's rather slimmer up this end, almost peaceful, although the beginnings of a linear development zone are beginning to intrude with jaggedy houses and a very lonely-looking office block. This is also where the Chesterfield Canal begins, diverging at an insignificant bend in the woods before wiggling off to join the Trent near Gainsborough. I only walked as far as the first lock at Tatton Mill Bridge, a one-gate affair through an unnervingly narrow arch (as is the way on this very early canal). Technically the first five miles are navigable but after that a disused tunnel breaks the connection to the rest of the canal network so no, you can't bring a boat. The town's most famous resident may surprise you, that is unless you've spotted the statue outside the station of a man holding a prototype locomotive. It's George Stephenson, railway builder extraordinaire, who chose to spend the last ten years of his life living in Chesterfield. What drew him here initially was the North Midland Railway, then that while digging a tunnel near Clay Cross he discovered coal and iron deposits and made a pretty penny by establishing a company to exploit them. He lived at Tapton House, a grand brick mansion on Castle Hill overlooking the railway, before dying of pleurisy in 1848 and being buried in a vault at Holy Trinity across the valley. In 1925 a later resident gifted the house to the town along with its surrounding parkland. It's still free to wander round, apart from the golf course, although probably best not approached via the ridiculously steep footpath I clambered up. Tapton House spent many years as a boarding school and most recently council offices, although it's been empty since 2018 awaiting a new purpose. It was uncanny to walk through the great man's gates, past a horse-mounting block the great man likely used, to a carriage-turning loop in front of the great man's front door. What I also discovered was a planning application pinned to a post, its deadline recently passed, proposing turning the empty house and its immediate surroundings into 20 residential units. They'll be high-spec because living up here is not for paupers, and are described within the spiel as "A Harmonious Blend of Heritage and Modernity". But there'll also be security gates and private gardens so I doubt anyone'll be able to access George's back lawn quite as freely as I managed, before yomping back down the hill and catching his railway home.

East Midlands quiz Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire. Derbyshire A) Bigsofa B) Rugbolt C) Nicercub D) Localmatch E) Glancearea F) Typeamaze G) Ringereach H) Yearntasted I) Gossipvalue J) Glazesurgery K) Cookproperly L) Dollarsweight M) Babywrapjacket        Nottinghamshire N) Tiepigs O) Jobbribe P) Freshboat Q) Heavyhive R) Saganbulk S) Hispasture T) Openercost U) Simplymick V) Kanyespanwade W) Aboutmodelcar X) Directionhealthy Y) Schwarzenegger Z) Dividetimbertrees (answer in the comments box, and please no more than one guess each)

Hyperlocal Signage News Delays are expected to continue until October. It's probably related to the aforementioned sewer repairs. But it has a misplaced apostrophe. I wish someone would take it away.

On 5th August 2024 London woke to the news that Banksy had painted a goat on a wall in Kew. Over the next eight days an entire menagerie emerged across the capital, and it filled the August silly season gap brilliantly. [original bloggage] Two of the animals vanished almost immediately, but I wondered how many of the remaining seven were still visible one year later. Monday 5th: Goat (Kew Green) And straight away it's a no. The goat had been painted on a wall facing the south end of Kew Bridge, part of the former Caxton Name Plate Manufacturing Company building. It was promptly covered by protective plastic but more recently the entire building's been covered with scaffolding so you can see nothing. And this is because it turns out Banksy painted his goat on a building with planning permission for a roof extension, and four new sash windows were proposed on this formerly blank wall. More pertinently the owners removed the goat in its entirety on 7th February, indeed there are fairly startling photos of workmen on a raised platform hacking out a huge chunk of the wall, so all the scaffolding's really shielding is a hole. Don't expect to see the goat again, it's proved a nice little earner. Tuesday 6th: Elephants (Chelsea) In good news this one's in better shape that last time I saw it. These two elephants appeared on an end terrace along Edith Grove in Chelsea, painted on two blanked out windows. Alas within a couple of days someone came along with a ladder and stuck lacy stripes over one of them, presumably thinking they were improving it, but thankfully that's since been carefully removed. The elephants are also the only surviving artwork not to have been screened over, thus now the least toyed-with. Wednesday 7th: Monkeys (Spitalfields) Imagine three monkeys dangling from the Overground viaduct crossing Brick Lane. You'll have to imagine because on 5th December contractors working for TfL arrived with a boom lift and jetwashed the lot of them. When pushed TfL said "unauthorised art can attract more graffiti, which encourages trespassing and anti-social activity that poses a danger to the operational railway and customers. This piece therefore had to be removed to prevent possible disruption", which on a street defined by colourful graffiti is plainly bolx. But if you look carefully the three monkeys are still there in vague outline, so they didn't do a very good job. Thursday 8th: Wolf (Peckham) Friday 9th: Pelicans (Walthamstow) I first saw this when it was fresh, two pelicans necking fish from Bonners chippy just north of Walthamstow High Street. It took a while to be shielded by plastic because the family were on their six week summer break when Banksy came and painted it. They're abroad again at present, returning Thursday 4th September, but the artwork's still safely in place and possibly the greatest of the bunch. If you come for a gander in the autumn be aware that a small bag of chips now costs £4.20 because art doesn't come cheap. Saturday 10th: Cat (Cricklewood) Sunday 11th: Piranhas (Ludgate Hill) This was my favourite, not least because I arrived so early that the social media rush hadn't yet arrived. I thus had the sentry box on Ludgate Hill entirely to myself, nipping in and out to admire the painted piranhas from both sides. The crowds came soon after, then a ring of protective barriers so nobody could get up close, than the City of London took steps to protect their property by removing the entire box and placing it off limits outside the Guildhall. It's still there but now shifted inside to an entrance corridor where presumably you can brush past it midweek, but I turned up on Sunday when the City sleeps so could only peer through the window. In good news this aquarium will be heading to the new London Museum when that opens next year. Monday 12th: Rhino (Charlton) This one's in a horrible location on an industrial estate near the Thames Barrier, accessed by dodging tipper trucks on a mucky street whose pavements are blocked by parked cars and vans. The first time I saw it an employee of RMS Skips was halfway through covering it with plastic sheeting and I'm pleasantly surprised to see that's still here, as is the artwork behind it. It's also still drawing Banksy fans because just before I arrived a driver wound down his window for an admiring glance, and just after I left another couple blocked the street in their Mondeo to take a shot too. Best drive rather than walk. Tuesday 13th: Gorilla (London Zoo) Banksy's final artwork was daubed on a shutter at the entrance to London Zoo. They soon decided it couldn't remain in situ because queues need to flow freely at the height of the summer holidays, so a replacement shutter was sourced and the original whisked inside the zoo. The first replacement included a replica of Gorilla & Friends, plus a sign alongside confirming it wasn't the original, so visitors still got to experience the magic. But I see they've now suspended the pretence because I turned up before 10am yesterday when the shutters were down and can confirm all three are now blank white. A clickable menagerie Goat (Kew): chunk of wall removed Elephants (Chelsea): in situ, undefiled Monkeys (Brick Lane): jetblasted to hell Wolf (Peckham): stolen within hours Pelicans (Walthamstow): in situ, behind perspex Cat (Cricklewood): removed within hours Piranhas (Ludgate): shifted inside Guildhall Rhino (Charlton): in situ, behind perspex Gorilla (London Zoo): shifted inside the zoo