These giant tropical tree stumps, some complete with their buttress roots came from a regulated, commercially logged tropical primary forest in Ghana. They have been installed in the Trafalgar Square to inspire and provoke debate about the future of the world’s rainforests.

The “Ghost Forest” as it is called is the vision of the British artist Angela Palmer. The concept is to present a series of rainforest tree stumps as a ‘ghost forest’ – using the negative space created by the missing trunks as a metaphor for climate change, the absence representing the removal of the world’s ‘lungs’ through continued deforestation.

Palmer chose to source the tree stumps from Ghana, because over the last 50 years has lost 90 per cent of its primary rainforest, but it is now at the vanguard of responsible and sustainable forestry.

Image Credit: http://www.ghostforest.org

The artist says that instead of being “yet another message about climate change doom and gloom, the Ghost Forest carries a message of hope and optimism for the future.”

The tree stumps were presented as a “ghost forest” initially in Trafalgar Square in London from 16-22 November 2009, and are now moving to Copenhagen for 7-18 December 2009 to coincide with the UN’s COP15 Climate Change Conference.

More information and images http://www.ghostforest.org

Trafalgar Square was exquisite. At night it always seems soft to me, with the warm lights and the cosy darkness wrapped around you. But yesterday morning it was as ice. The sky appeared brittle blue, and the sun was hard and chill. The water from the fountain cascaded in the unbreaking tinkle of diamonds flecked with light. The puddles shone like daggers, blinding. It made me want to sit with Virginia Woolf and bite my fingers.

The fountains are beautifully lit by alternating colours after dark

I’d just left the National Gallery, which seemed hot and stifled against the brightness of the morning, wherein was enclosed my friend Ella, a music student at Nottingham Conservatoire, and accomplished flautist, pianist and whatever the world is for piccolo player, and amongst other qualities a wonderful friend. She’d come down to London quite upon a whim; an email advertising the event – a day for undergraduate students on the importance of and how to improve performance in music, based upon the interchangeability of arts – a quick check of coach prices, and a phonecall to me asking if my sofa was available. She saw a moment, could afford it, and did it. I respect her for that, but I love her for it too.

So we went to see Phantom of the Opera, her favourite musical, because she was only down for one evening. We met after my lecture at 5o’clock when her coach arrived at Victoria; I furnished her with an oyster card, and we went for dinner at Pizza Express and then to the show. Naturally, it was mind blowing. Ella must’ve seen the DVD a thousand times over, knew every nuance, every note, and listened to the soundtrack on the way down. I knew nothing, never having seen or heard either. For me, it was a revelation; for her, it was a tautening of the drum skin, a heightening of all she’d known previously. The singing, she assured me, was spectacular; I found my comfortable niche as theatre technician and approved most of the costume, set and lighting designs above all else. It was fascinating. We applauded the orchestra especially hard, and told each other stories of the days when she would be in the pit, and I writing lines for her to play to.

The next day I left early and set her up comfortably in the National well ahead of schedule. We even found time to peruse a few paintings in the National Gallery itself; some Turner, I recall. Then I stole some tea arranged for the participants of the day, and she was called in. They worked ekphrastically, combining poetry, painting and musical performance. She tells me it was interesting and helpful. She’s entering a competition later this month for the day – she will find and record herself performing a piece of music related to a painting of the story of Samson and Delilah, of which she bought a little postcard.

The only trouble was during her day I found myself in a puddle of tears in a small toilet on the strand campus for nearly an hour before my seminar. I got some bad news, which knocked me and left me quaking. It feels like, and I believe is, a big set back – stagnation being something that I see as destructive. The achievements of almost a years struggle seemed desecrated and replaced with the sensation of being right back where I started. Again, I felt a sympathy with Virginia Woolf; a contrast which sickened me after my proasic walk and thoughts of her traversing Trafalgar barely hours ago.

I think it’s not helped by a growing feeling of isolation within my university. Last friday I went out with my workmates – just dinner at an Indian restaurant and then a few drinks at the pub. And I recalled the feeling of my childhood, where I was always at ease with people much older than myself – my parents or even grandparents friends – beyond my peers. I’ve got it constantly through life, but there’s only so many times I want to be told I’m old before my years, or more mature, and more sensible, and more this or that than people my own age. I know it, I’ve struggled with it for years waiting for my age group to catch up. Even now I feel it on my course, with silly little girls set against my genuine passion for language and literature. But beyond even that old gripe, I just don’t seem to have any friends at university. I connect more with 30year-olds at work – I find pleasure more in their company than those who should be my friends and equals.

There are three exceptions; my housemate Jamie, my friend Hell (short for Helen), and a chap called Sam who I only bump into around campus when he isn’t with his girlfriend. There are several acquaintances I don’t think disparagingly of, notably a beautiful girl called Yasmine who I make small talk with sometimes and Frankie, but I feel like they aren’t my friends and we don’t spend time together outside lecture halls. Outside of my course, there’s Sheena, who I adore, and my old halls friends, who I exclusively don’t see. The only other students I spend time with from London go to Imperial, and are my boyfriends housemates, who are some of the best people I know regardless of age or occupation. I can’t speak highly enough of them. But at the same time, the sheer frustration that I like more people from Imperial than from Kings is like a consumption.

Compounded with this my friends at home seem to be bickering, and I don’t even know what about; talk of not speaking to each other communally on facebook anymore, complaints of tension and bitching and insulting, suggestions of avoiding things til Christmas (as if that’d solve a problem) I just can’t see – I feel like I have nothing to contribute to that. And I just don’t know if saying nothing can be considered an option b. (I don’t know, maybe it is. I think there’s overreaction left right and centre and shutting up is a valid (over?)reaction to overreaction. More and more I find myself doing this, and feeling like all I can present to the world is apathy.)

So as always, it comes back to the same old thing. People saying I’m very mature for 21 – oh, you’re only 19? I assumed you were older, you seem very much older – well, I feel much older, in the world wearied sense which is lethargy mixed with exhaustion, and I can’t put a finger on which. It seems to yo-yo wildly between the two. So with a cynical sigh I try to scrape together some enthusiasm for pretending I feel as young as my years and sap strength to convince myself of motivation.

… I failed. I’m missing my lecture today. I doubt I’ll leave my boyfriend’s bedroom. And he shouldn’t have to do this, have to come back to me, sat here like a broken doll on his bed, vampirically hoping to drain his support to substitute my own. It’s him I feel for more me, because he has to deal with it and bear the brunt of it, this “me” made of metaphors and rejections made redundant.

Talk to me in a fortnight’s time, when I’ve spent the weekend with Laura, when I’ve been to the Cosplay ball with Jamie and Sheena and King’s GeekSoc on Sunday, when Elford and I have celebrated our anniversary, when I’ve spent some more time with Geeksoc at the wednesday pub meet and tried the socialising thing, when my friend Rob stays around and I’ve met his Canadian (Canadienne?) girlfriend, when Whyman comes up from Brighton and we all see Eddie Izzard, when my birthday party has taken place, when my parents have taken us to Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club in Soho, when I’ve tried to sort out that bad news as best as I can for now – and maybe I’ll be more useful, more proactive.

And people will congratulate me and say what a sensible and mature girl I am, especially for my age, and I’ll sigh and feel like my chest is being pressed upon by some great weight I can’t identify, and feel like I’ve not moved a single step forward since last year, so people’ll be right; I’ll be older than my age.

The Ghost Forest exhibit was an excellent way to show just how large these trees are and everything that we need them (to survive) for. All photos courtesy of MissDani aka imJuli.

I would have liked to have seen a representation of how high these trees are. There were labels on each of the blocks comparing them to Nelson’s plinth, but some something which actually stood that tall would have hit it home for me. Not that lugging a full sized tree from the rainforest to Britain would have been the answer, but some sort of creative representation. I am not an artist, so dont ask me what, imjustsaying.

I managed to catch the last day of Angela Palmer’s Ghost Forest exhibition in Trafalgar Square before it was shipped off to Copenhagen. Giant tree stumps from a commercially-logged rainforest in Ghana were set up in an attempt to highlight the issue of deforestation. Their roots stretched, like gnarled fingers toward the National Gallery, Big Ben, St. Martin in the Fields. In real life, they would have reached so high into the sky that they would have been about even with the height of Nelson’s Column.

The Telegraph posted a short clip that shows it off pretty well.

Here are a few photos I took last weekend.

Trafalgar Square

E’ passato qualche giorno dal lancio di Virgilio Sing Ring, l’iniziativa di Sing Ring, start-up del gruppo Digital Magics e di Virgilio per la gestione delle lyrics (pubblicate finalmente in modo del tutto legale) e di un innovativo karaoke online. Su Virgilio Sing Ring, sono già online un milione di testi musicali e più di trecentocinquanta brani (500 entro Natale) per il video karaoke.

Le canzoni per il karaoke di Sing Ring (voce e musica) sono tutte registrate dal vivo ex-novo in alta qualità, permettendo di cantare seguendo la voce registrata, cantare solamente sulla base musicale, o suonare sulla base del testo cantato. Intanto, mentre il brano va avanti, le parole sincronizzate appaiono sul player.

Sing Ring promette grandi sviluppi nella direzione di un sistema sempre più completo di gestione e condivisione sociale della musica cantata e suonata. E naturalmente, Sing Ring si presta a diventare piattaforma di comunicazione per i brand, grazie a video contest in cui gli utenti reinterpretano brani famosi associati alla pubblicità; o si cimentano in nuove creazioni. La funzione sociale e lo spirito di aggregazione espressi dalla musica cantata sono una grande forza, la cui personalizzazione è solo questione di fantasia.

Per avere un’idea di come il Singing Marketing sia già una realtà, basta dare un’occhiata al celeberrimo karaoke di massa organizzato da T-Mobile a Trafalgar Square; o al “format” Singing in the car lanciato dal navigatore Sony nav-u in Giappone.

Al link di seguito, una raccolta dei video relativi all’evento di lancio di Sing Ring.

Presentazione Virgilio Sing Ring

OK, so it’s not Edinburgh BB had a weekend away…

Mihaela Berciu recommended me this project: http://www.ghostforest.org//. She thought I might love it. Well, she was right. As a response to the extremely serious global and eco-chaos we live in now, the british artist Angela Palmer relocated 10 tree stumps from Ghana, all the way to Trafalgar Square. The stumps will travel further, to my beloved Copenhagen. They will be a great setting for the UN Climate Change Conference.  It took Angela Palmer almost three years and a lot of both financial and governmental support and understanding to make this happen. Of course it makes one think of the carbon emission generated by this world trip. But, as the artist said, we have spent a little to gain a lot.

I have been based at the Human Institute in South West London now for a number of years. I maintain a modest homestead just up the road and generally commute back and forth by foot, or sometimes even feet.

What may surprise some, being that I work in the country’s capital, is it that outside of the modest borough of Wandsworth where I reside and make science, I have never ventured into the centre. I have never seen the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, Nelson’s Column, the apple store or even met the Queen – all the things many people might take for granted of us London residents.

Now of course when I do take myself away for the twice annual Charles Human holiday expedition I often make the most of exploring new areas, often meeting with fellow scientists and trading amusing stories about Bunsen burners. So why should it be that I have all the alleged wonders of one of the largest and most exciting cities in the world, a mere stone’s throw away and I have never attempted to rectify this obvious deficiency in my cultural learning.

Well I could argue that you reading this have never visited the Human Institute, you probably don’t even know where it is, so I do have that one up on you.

I suppose the theory might go that when it’s on your doorstep, there is the feeling that you could go anytime, and so then by default never do. I’m not so certain that applies in this case however. As it stands I am currently running an experiment where I have inserted a small electronic chip in my wrist. The idea being that when I approach doors at the institute they will automatically open for me without the rather tiresome business of using door handles. The technology is fairly rudimentary at the moment, and so my movements to and from the institute are hampered some by the fact the small chip inserted in my wrist is powered by a 5K generator that I have to wheel around behind me. Don’t ask where the power cables enter my body.

Still if this prototype is a success (there are a few teething problems at the moment, and I have walked straight into a number of doors in anticipation that they will simply open up for me) I can though see this type of tech applied for more general use by the public. My hope is by this time next year for us all to have these chips inserted in our wrists and franchise the technology out to major retailers (supermarkets for instance) and opening and closing doors will become a thing of the past.

If you are in London and you want to make the most of your trip then exploring the nightlife culture in the city is the most significant thing to do besides visiting the popular London places. London Nightlife Culture is extremely vibrant and it offers a wide variety of things to explore. The capital hosts several well known night clubs, pubs, bars, dancing dens, museums, theatres and cinemas. Most of the theatres, museums and art galleries amongst these also offer late night shows and special events.

Some of the venues where you can relish the night culture of London are listed below:

· Victoria and Albert Museum

South Kensington, Cromwell Road

London SW7

Telephone +44 (0)20 7942 2000 / 2092

Nearest tube station – South Kensington London Underground

It is one of the most popular museums in the city. V & A is open until 10 pm and offers various events such as lectures, live jazz, classical music, lectures, buffet in the restaurant and much more. This is a good place to spend Friday evening after a hectic day of work.

· Royal Academy of Arts

Piccadilly Burlington House

London

Telephone – +44 (0)20 7300 8000

Nearest tube station – Piccadilly Circus London Underground

This renowned London attraction opens until 10 pm on every Friday. It offers a unique friends room where you can have a quiet drink with delicious snacks and relax while listening to live music. An event of evening lectures is also conducted here all round the year.

· Trafalgar Square

London WC2

Nearest tube station – Charing Cross and Leicester Square London Underground

Trafalgar Square is amongst the most popular London landmarks. It is a must to watch place especially for the tourists. This occasional pigeon is crowded with several tourists always, no matter what time of the day or what weather. The square looks even more stunning at night.

· The Old Queens Head

44, Essex Road

Islington

London N1 8LN

Nearest tube station – Angel London Underground

The Old Queens Head is a well known night club located in the region of Islington. It is a traditional yet trendy club and is suitable for the people who love clubbing. You can also savor a wide variety of delicious drinks and cuisines at this club. It offers great music, exciting quiz, DJ and much more. The ambience of the club is also commendable as you will find various chandeliers and beautiful lampshades in the club thus, making it a perfect location for clubbing.

· Mirrors Restaurant

Novotel London St

Pancras

100 – 110 Euston Road

Kings Cross St Pancras

London NW1 2AJ

Telephone – 0872 148 3125

Nearest tube station – Kings Cross St Pancras London Underground

This wonderful restaurant offers a pleasant atmosphere with a variety of scrumptious cuisines and exceptional service. It offers one of the best hotels dining in the city. Various red and white wines are the specialties of the restaurant.

The above mentioned venues are just a few amongst the long list of venues where one can experience the London nightlife. So discover as much as you can and visit the above to start with your journey of exploring the London Nightlife Culture.

There was an incredibly interesting article on the Londonist website today that I wanted to share with my blog readers.

The original article was posted here, they deserve all the credit, not I!

London has the largest litter of lions in the world. A magnificent pride their history goes back 120,000 years. There are colossal, legendary and living lions. Lions from one of the seven wonders of the world, from the cradle of liberty and there’s a lion on the very first coin. Appearing on the greatest historical treasures, living in masterpieces of art lions are roaring on the capital’s biggest tourist attractions. London is leonine.

By Aidan Potts and Dylan William

It’s simply fascinating to think that I walk to work through an area that used to be largely forested and had ancient lions, elephants and rhinos freely roaming around it!

There is currently an exhibition in Trafalgar Square at the moment that marks the deforestation of the huge forest that used to cover London; I hope to have time to take some pictures of it tonight, so do please visit my blog again to see those!

Via twitter, I have also learnt from @ianvisits that London used to be glacial too!

It’s all a little strange for me really, as I oft find that I forget London’s historical roots when walking through the city, distracted by all of the noise, the pollution and the tourists. When I think of history, I certainly never think any further back than 1066 (thanks to Mr Davenport’s Year 7 History class heh!). Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love history and it’s one of my favourite subjects, but how many of us instantly go right back to the depths of natural history when someone says the word ‘history’ to them? I suppose that it’s easier to associate history with the immediate history and connect it to things which are still around us to this day.

I am absolutely fascinated!