This year the London Underground celebrated its sesquicentennial. A hundred and fifty years, that is, since the first steam trains puffed their way beneath the streets from Paddington to Farringdon in… Read article
I’ve got one party trick. True, I can mildly impress a limp reveller with my hyper-mobile elbows, I can fit my entire fist into my mouth, and once I nearly met my (suffocated, messy) end during a … Read article
Whatever happened to my invisible watch? I can't have lost it. I don't remember a day when it disappeared. Was there a time when I still wore it underneath my Swatch watch or Casio? Is it buried at th… Read article
Do you drive? I do not, cannot and will not, but my borderline phobic attitude to the motor car exists in tandem with a genuine, epicurean love for the smell of petrol; just as the olfactory bang of f… Read article
The 6th November, 2001 is not a day in which history is especially interested. But those who watched Fox in the US that evening might remember it. The first episode of 24 had been put back so as not t… Read article
Imagine this: a couple of official-looking suits roll up to your place of work, twist their ties up to 11, and demand – with no apparent good reason – that you close up shop. That’s it, they say… Read article
‘If you’re gonna spew, spew into this.’ Wayne’s World (1992) It was one of the first times I’d flown, and my delight in the mountain tops and puffs of cloud through the window was disrupte… Read article
If there is a time in our collective consciousness for reflection, Winter, historically a season of hoarding and privation - albeit it one punctuated with great feasts - is surely it. In Issue Nine of The Junket we are hunkering down for this season of long dark nights with a selection of essays which consider aspects of visual language and culture.
In ‘We Are Now Beginning Our Descent’ Dorothy Feaver plots the seemingly inevitable decline in the production of ‘airline art’, playfully describing the eccentric world of sick-bag collecting as it drifts into historicity.
There is nostalgia too both in James Purdon’s ‘Underground’ - a hymn to the sculptural traditions of the London Underground which celebrated its sesquicentennial this year - and in Peter Scott’s ‘Close to Home’, which reflects through an analysis of Homeland and 24 that America doesn't do heroes like it used to.
On a merry note, James Wade brings us some heady tales in ‘Drunk Monks’, with beautiful illustrations reproduced with kind permission of The British Library, and Digby Warde-Aldam’s ‘Petrol Stations’ asks with a wry smile why the ‘Non-Places’ of Ed Ruscha’s 26 Gasoline Stations hold such significance in American lore, compared to their sorry standing in Britain’s cultural heritage.
Susanna Hislop’s ‘On Vision’ explores what it means to see - reflecting on the dizzying and often dimensionally-warped world of her own severe myopia, into an appreciation of the deeply personal nature of our perceptive faculties, while Natalia Calvocoressi’s photo essay ‘61 Days’ is a document of intimate observation that records the life of a friend in a period of transition.
Finally, ‘Invisible Watch’ by Dan Stevens asks whether, at a time when technology is codifying our reality, the visions and vistas of the childhood imagination deserve more of our care and attention.
List of Contributors
Natalia Calvocoressi is a photographer and exhibition designer living in London.
Susanna Hislop is an actor, writer and theatre maker living in London. @SusannaHislop
Dan Stevens is an actor and writer living in New York. He was one of the judges of the Man Booker prize 2012. @thatdanstevens
James Wade is a beer drinker, a scholar of medieval literature, and a fellow of Christ's College Cambridge.
Digby Warde-Aldam is a freelance writer based in a boring part of London.