One year on.

"You guys have a gallery in London don't you?.." The woman was confident she had seen a Mooch art in London. It occurred to me to say yes but telling lies to me is like throwing a ball with my left hand. I'm just so bad at it that even if I wanted to I'd end up looking like a fool.
I'm sure at some point mooch will open a gallery in London but its great to know that when we do, there will be one woman who will think it has been there ages.

I didn't make a big deal of it but on the 26th June, Mooch art was 1 year old. It's hard to fathom the distance that a small gallery can come in that time. Art galleries along with other luxury goods have taken a hammering since the crunch hit. Rumours are circulating about the latest casualty so surviving and even prospering in the worst economic crisis in 70 years is something to celebrate.

Oldham street is still the Mooch epicentre and that is the way it is going to stay. Things are turning and there is a change in the tide of confidence. Sales have been fantastic in the past 2 months and at the time of writing the FTSE has seen it tenth consecutive session of gains. Is this is a sign that things are on the up?

What is certain is that mooch shows artwork that people want. The starting of a gallery is a risky thing and more that a few people had doubts about it. One of my friends took me to task when I had just signed on the lease for the gallery. He has a lot of experience in business and strongly believed I was chasing a fanciful dream. I wouldn't be able to make enough to live and that it wasn't a viable business. It gave my confidence a serious knock but after some soul searching I went ahead and did it anyway.

Around that time I remember a talk by Trevor Baylis, the inventor of the clockwork radio. He came across massive resistance to his ideas. Like me, (although to a lesser extent) people thought he was just a dreamer with a crazy idea. Trevor sent his idea to the National association of watch and clock collectors who took enormous pleasure in ripping his ideas to shreds. The letter he received back was highly detailed in its criticism. He has kept this as a sign that most people find it easier to knock an idea that to create one. It is easier to be sceptical that to believe in a positive change. Trevor can say it much better than me, "The key to success is to risk thinking unconventional thoughts. Convention is the enemy of progress."

Mooch is still growing and is likely to make some bigger moves very soon. The only difference now from last year is that when I say I'm going to do something, people take me a bit more seriously.

Artist focus - Mike Smith on Mike Smith

Mike pokes his head round the door briefly and says for me to come in. He is smoking a roll up and doesn't want to stink out the flat so disappears onto the balcony leading off the kitchen. The second floor flat on a crumbling street in Hulme could be a set on shameless. Abandoned cars lie in drives and four floors of post war architecture make it clear this is a rough part of town. Mike Smith is an artist, but he also an alcoholic. The two are incompatible.

This is something very difficult for me to write about because it is story of extraordinary waste. Someone who approached me 2 months ago with some paintings which impressed me has since fallen off the wagon. Not knowing his problems I was compelled to show his work, how can I possibly refuse my namesake?

My 1st visit was to his girlfriends house in Chorlton. It was here I realised he was more than just a very talented painter, he was, and still is, a creative genius. I don't use these words lightly and haven't used them before but am certain of their use at this point.

Mike has shown with some great galleries and has sold a lot of work to a lot of people. Never have I met someone who painting is as easy as taking a walk. He can knock out a painting in a day that many other artists would strain for a week over. Its effortless, and it leaves him with excess room in his brain to fill with strange and dark thoughts.

In the flat he offers me a drink, I accept a cup of tea. He makes it and then says he has no milk and that I don't have to drink it. He apologises and curses himself for being an idiot and a loser. He does that a lot.

It was in his little kitchen with him still smoking when I asked how things were going. I knew something was up because in the two months since we met he hadn't produced any more artwork despite being in a new exhibition next week. He told me that fairly soon after our conversations "Emmesse" slipped back into his old ways.

On the 26th June, mooch art was 1 year old and I invited all the artists out for a few drinks. Mike wanted to be involved in a normal social drink but he told me that he stood outside watching us laughing and drinking through the pub window but tragically couldn't bring himself to step inside and sit there with a coke.

Emmesse (Mike Smith) is a caricature of the tortured artist. At first I wasn't sure whether to believe his story, but it has been confirmed by others close to him. He revels in the poetic destruction of his life. When he is drunk he says he thinks he can be like David Bowie, an artist, a madman a creative force to be reckoned with. In truth he is everything but.

Mike knows this of course. His rational side knows damn well just what impact he is having on himself and those around him. He is incredibly open, honest and articulate about his situation and I can't help but like the guy. I expect others have fallen for his childlike qualities mixed with lucid intelligence. But everyone, it seems, finds that the alter ego is too much to deal with. His girlfriend threw him out of her house a week ago and the flat we are in is his own but he now shares it with his former tenant.

Artists have always had an alternate view on reality and some have had a very tentative grip upon it. I have always loved the work of Caravaggio. A renaissance painter who was as unstable and dangerous as he was talented. The dramatic and dark paintings still have massive power and resulted from this incredible mind. Modern day Caravaggios are being born today.

He talks me through some of his paintings, many of which were done to articulate his remorse at being a drunk and many to tackle his overwhelming fear of death. The work is brilliant, but it is stacked like pieces of rubbish in his bedroom. He says he should just chuck them all in the skip, he has done this before. Many pieces are typical landscapes, very skilfully painted without a trace of his personality. Others are malevolent, dark and foreboding pieces with meaning in every brush stroke. The curtains are closed despite it being a bright sunny day. I ask whether he enjoys painting. He pauses and thinks about it. He says he doesn't enjoy it in the conventional sense but he feels it is necessary.

He asks whether I still believe in him. I say I do but its really up to him not me. I'm no shrink, no counsellor. I wonder whether I said too much, or didn't say enough. Whether listening is enough or whether firm guidance is needed. I don't know, and from what I have heard, many people close to him don't either.

So why should I write this about him you ask? Well maybe If people know about this he can be helped. Treating your body to a course of 14 pints of special brew isn't a recipe for a long life. Mike knows this and thinks he will be dead within a year. Whether this is dramatic I can't be sure but It still leaves me with a lot to think about.

Hot Hot Hot

Are we going to have one of the best summers ever? I can feel it in my bones. The papers have fascinating nuggets of information saying Today Oldham was hotter than Jamaica. For sweating bodies in Oldham it is hardly a great victory. I had 2 ozzies in the gallery today up for the weekend. I mentioned the weather and immediately berated myself for being a typical englishman.

Cycling into the gallery this morning there was a buzz in the air. The women are solar powered and everyone is looking beautiful. Everything felt right and the world sorted. On the train (with my bike) a spontaneous conversation broke out between the myself and the other guys sitting next to me. On a cold dark February morning with the windows steamed up, barely a word would have been said but the feel good day was too much to contain to ourselves. I could tell we all had to spout mindless stuff to reaffirm the fact that it really was a good day INDEED.

Views can change within the same day. Our love/hate relationship with heatwaves remind me of my Gran (bless her soul) where no day is ever the right bloody temperature. "Oooh isn't it hot, you just can't do anything" "Oooh is just too close isn't it" "It needs to rain, it does, but I don't like it when its raining."

The galleries are baking too. Have sympathy for Sophia in the triangle where the lovely light and bright space means she has to wear shades indoors and have a fan constantly blowing on her. Oldham st is cool though, a natural spot that makes winter electricity bills skyrocket also means without air conditioning its actually very pleasant now.
What has this got to do with art? Absolutely nothing. I just like talking about the weather. Damn it.

Painting above is called Sunflowers by Victoria Tsekidou and is currently on display at the triangle gallery.

Mooch Focus - Danny Cawley

On first glance the place is an outrageous mess. Its like a paint factory where a series of small explosions have gone off. Canvasses are laid out flat on the floor all in varying stages of drying and they cover most of the available space. Dannys studio is big though, it needs to be. This was my 1st visit to Danny Cawleys studio in east manchester. A room in an old mill that artists rent out because no one else could put up with the lack of heating. I entered slightly out of breath from climbing the 4 flights of stairs.
Stepping through the maze of canvasses on the floor and you start to see order in the chaos, beauty in the mess. The smell of paint is really strong, oil based, emulsion and spray paint cover the canvasses. The odd squelch of carpet is because of the water he uses in the process. This also explains why he work flat.
This is one of the great things about the artist Danny Cawley that is so far removed from the typical view of an artist. Sat next to the middle aged watercolourist sitting with easel en plein air, Danny looks, sounds and paints very differently. The art is abstract, bold and urban and is a reflection of Danny himself. A former graffitti artist he challenges what we consider to be "Fine art". It doesn't whisper, It shouts. It doesn't mince its words, It tells you as it is.
Going to the same school and growing up in the same neighbourhood as Liam and Noel makes me think that Manchester is a great breeding ground for creative brains. His swagger and manc accent says "I don't do art bollocks". I know what he means. He does it his way and he does it purely to get the best result. Tear up the rule book and paint how you want. If we always do what we've always done, we'll always get what we always gotten.
Danny takes me through the paintings that are stacked high all around his studio walls. He clearly loves what he does. He is borderline going full time but for an artist thats like stepping off the edge of a cliff and you are at the mercy of the fickle art market. I point out that Lowry alway held his job as a rent collector throughout his life even when he became well known.
I came away from the studio impressed, having selected some great work to display with the gallery.
I meet a lot of artists and see a lot of work. I look for the right attitude because to succeed as an artist you need to be mentally tough and damned determined. How else can you take being constantly judged in a few seconds by hundreds, if not thousands of people. So coming away from the studio I was impressed as much by his determination as by his art.
Danny perhaps arrogantly said he is a name to watch out for in the future. With most artists I would discount this as naive bull. But with Danny I believe he has the trousers to match his mouth. Watch this space.

Suits you sir

It's a scene only in dreams/nightmares. You turn up to work without your trousers or worse still, completely naked. This is the feeling I had last night, only less intense and I didn't break into a cold sweat.
I went to a young professionals networking BBQ. It was held in the courtyard of a solicitors and being my 1st time I have been hadn't a clue what to expect. Made up of mostly of accountants and solicitors there was a sea of smart shirts and dark suits. Most had shed the small strip of material tied around their neck to signal they were out of intense work mode and just into casual work mode.
Naturally I stuck out like a sore thumb. (Why do sore thumbs stick out I wonder). Jeans and trainers are my uniform now and I left smart stuff behind blue chips and corporations 2 years ago. For me I only wear suits for weddings and funerals and am glad of it.
The gallery is a relaxed and easy going place and a suit would give out the kind of signals that say serious, formal and worst of all, unimaginative. For the accountants and solicitors it shows they are responsible, reliable and professional, which is great for their business, but not for mine.
Standing out if you're an accountant, bad. Standing out when you run an art gallery, good.
Viva la revolution.

A busy gallery owner?

My Inlaws were up for the weekend. I gave them the tour of both galleries, which should have been a proud moment for me. It was capped by “Are you sure you don’t want me to bring you a paper or something”. Gutted. Coming from my mother in law she had obviously taken pity on me and felt that I can’t possibly have enough to do without her help. It left me trying to convince them that running a gallery doesn’t involve waiting for people to come to you all day.
Every word from that moment sounded hollow, fatuous and left me feeling like a schoolboy again. I was saying too much which only heightened the demeaning arch of her eyebrows. Keep it simple Smith. If you are late for work it sounds better if you stick to one reason rather than “the train was late and my mobile battery died and the dog ate my watch and and and”.
Anyone who runs their own business knows that if you wait for people to stumble your way, you ain’t going to last long. The nature of an art gallery is that you don’t have huge numbers of people coming through. But then you don’t need huge numbers because what we sell is higher value than the newsagents on the corner.
We are starting to trial Sunday openings at the triangle so this is a time when I need to take on staff because no one can work 7 days a week. Any extra time is spent searching the mills and art studios, going to degree shows and networking events. How else can I be a specialist in emerging talent?
Mooch art Oldham street is also named the “Gallery of dreams”. It’s on my business cards and makes people smile whenever they read it. My take on “field of dreams” isn’t because of a penchant for cheesy 80s films. I loved the phrase “If you build it, they will come” and they have and do come. Artists all over the world sent material to me, and the gallery really is a beacon for attracting people who paint. Every now and again, not often mind, I see an artist who makes my week or even year. An artist who blows my mind with their talent and who still hasn’t a clue just how many people would love their work if they knew about it.
Don’t get me wrong, for every diamond there are hundreds or thousands of lumps of coal. Recently I have founds a few diamonds and It leaves me with a sense of enormous well being.
The next exhibition should be very very interesting. If you come along to Oldham street you will be able to see these artists before they are officially unveiled.

So am I busy? The answer is very.

Hungry Pigeon festival

The Northern Quarter in Manchester is becoming known for its cool bars, quirky fashion and serious music shops. It treads a fine line of respectability with its fair share of adult shops and old school pubs with guys who are there waiting at the door come opening time. It reminds me of Kings Cross in Sydney. It's a place where backpackers and tourists mix with prostitutes and drug pushers. It's a red light district where the Mcdonalds sits next to a lap dancing bar. Smut sits next to mainstream without anyone blinking a disbelieving eye. You may assume that this would make the place unsafe, but you would be wrong. The area mooch gallery occupies isn't anywhere as "Red" as that, but it has that feel.

The northern quarter is cool, its quirky but in some places bizarre and a little intimidating. It shows that people are prepared to turn away from the homogenisation of the high street. Perhaps more now than ever. I lived in the northern quarter so knew of its resurgence. The streets we moved into 8 years ago were derelict and have now been filled so that its the nightlife centre of the whole city. Sunday morning used to be quieter than a remote cottage in the highlands. Quieter in fact because there was no wildlife.

More luck than judgement has been responsible for the area leading the Mancunian cultural scene. The creativity and ideas aren't a result of hours of planning and council funding. In fact its precisely the opposite. An untended garden will flourish with wildlife without any planting, pruning, watering or fertilising. Maybe the best strategy is to just let things be, watch it grow.
Most people didn't give a monkeys about the area until some young businesses decided to take advantage of cheap rents and start injecting some colour and vibrancy into long forgotten buildings. So its a chance occurrence. A result of low barriers and free thinking, of plucky business owners and broad minded customers. Yes there has been key investment from property companies like Crosby and Urban Splash, but this hasn't given the area its character and it hasn't contributed to its soul.

A couple of key players are really going to put the Northern Quarter on the map . The arts council are building their head office on the adjacent road to Mooch taking 18,000 sq ft of the Hive building. Band on the wall are renovating the fabulous building that was the cornerstone of the punk scene in the late 70s and was where the buzzcocks, the fall and joy division first played. It is due to open September this year. These developments are part of a £30 million masterplan to turn the area into London's Camden locks. Manchester's Camden locks needed something to promote and celebrate the good stuff.

The Hungry Pigeon festival is the start of an annual celebration of art, music and cultural shenanigans. From 22nd - 25th May there were over 200 bands playing, dozens of events, the biggest staged in Piccadilly gardens on Saturday. I went along and the sun was shining, thousands of people were basking in a festival atmosphere. The organisers rolled the dice on banking on a good day and came out with a double six. It was perfect, and hats of to them for a well organised event. I had wondered whether there would be trashy music that makes me feel old and baffled at what "the kids" listen to nowadays. I was pleasantly surprised and thought that the unsigned bands I heard were actually something I could recognise and actually like. Like the Northern Quarter in general, the festival will only get bigger and better and that's great news for galleries like mooch.