Dulltown, Europe: Today’s weather will feature aerial slabs of sticky lard with a backdrop of white spotted azure sheets hanging out to dry – in the afternoon there may be spatters of heavenly bullets towards the coast.
Well she did say that they might be coming – Veronica and Monty that is. Yes, Veronica Crush, writer from the glory days of the Hull Surrealist League, now based in New York with her partner tall tree surgeon and heir to a multimillion dollar fortune, Monty Tick.
They were pausing in Dulltown on their way to Amsterdam where Veronica was to give an interactive (waterproof clothing will be worn and eggs and rotten fruit will be freely thrown) public reading of her poetry and prose. She thought that Monty might like to have a look at her home city as they were passing through – apparently he wasn’t very impressed with the view from the hotel window and refused to be moved from the sofa, the mini-bar, and the TV.
I received all this information from my friend Stella, whom you may know from my occasional blog posts where I pass on the pithy comments that she makes on my drawings.
Veronica decided that in order to do a bit of nostalgia wallowing and revisit the ‘good’ old days she would gather together the surviving members of the Hull Surrealist League, Simon Doom, Tony Mayonnaise, et al, hire a room in Dulltown’s poshest restaurant, and treat them all to a slap-up meal – a surrealist banquet.
It true H.S.L. style it was a ‘themed’ evening, mixing music, surrealism, costumes, and plenty of free booze (paid for by Monty, who did manage to attend).
Veronica hired some musicians, a zither player, a trombonist, a xylophonist, and a banjo player. They were all made to wear ear muffs so that they couldn’t hear what they, or their companions were playing, and they were each instructed to play only their own favourite tune, and to repeat it for the duration of the event. Stella says that the music was ‘marvellous’ and was also ‘a terrible row’. The food served had a musical theme too, she gave me a copy of the menu, and said that she was sure that I would have enjoyed the night, had I been invited. Apparently even Doom and Mayo’ were surprisingly well-behaved and there was only one bloody nose fist fight all night.
Crotchet and minim soup with grated arpeggios.
Intermittent bright brass stabs.
Golden trout trumpets with poppadoms.
Whole roast scherzo (wet pizzicato interludes).
Mixolydian mode synth-gush on dry staves.
Hot steaming sprouts on hickory drumsticks.
Sugared Bieber bean surprise.
Milky Schubert meringue.
Jumping red Firebird delight.
Strauss mousse with broken Beefheart drum fills.
Barbecued Glass on a spit basted with honeyed Brahms.
Nuts, dotted quavers, assorted minor intervals, and as many glissandi as you can get down.