Images of India / Big Ken

Images of India

Leamington Garret. Something a bit different this week. I am featuring the work of my fast friend Jason Tilley, who is a very gifted and determined photographer.

His story is an interesting one. He was a successful press and advertising photographer until three or four years ago, at which point he decided to sell everything: his house, his car, and most of his other possessions, so he could travel in India for three years taking black-and-white photographs.

He returned about a year ago, his funds exhausted. Jason had taken hundreds of amazing images but the intensity of the experience had changed him.



He seemed very different from the Jason Tilley I had worked with in the 1980s and found it very hard to adapt to life back in Coventry.

We met up, admittedly with pretty disastrous results. Gradually over the past year, my friend has seemed less down in the dumps. He came over to the Leamington Garret last week and we went out to the Jug & Jester for a couple of beers. As usual, it turned into the full gallon and we talked and talked.



Despite our very different experiences recently, I feel I have much in common with Jason. When I first knew him, he was an 18-year-old Cov Kid with a natural talent for photography who took pictures for my thrice-weekly pop column on the Coventry Evening Telegraph.

We had a grear time visiting and photographing pop stars including James Brown and Prince, but, at that time, he did not suffer from the same restive angst about life that I always have done. Now methinks he does. In spades.



We discussed how lonely life is. Even though there are nearly always people around me, I feel it strongly. I am alone in a crowded world. I was surprised Jason also expressed the loneliness of his existence. He is good at forming relationships. Yet you can be utterly alone whilst in company.

He said relationships do not matter to him any more. He just wants to complete his Indian project. This is his life’s work. I admired him because I could see it was all that really counted. He has put his art first and has to succeed.



His work is stunning. And, yet, it is so hard to get other people to see it. Jason said he has managed to get some well known photographers to endorse the project and a selection of his photographs are also displayed on the the PhotographyBlog. They look superb.

When you see all the suffering his subjects have been through, it is not surprising that taking these images cost Jason a slice of his soul.

Now he wants to go back to India to complete the project. He should and must do this. Jason Tilley is producing something historic.



After the obligatory kebab and chips at the take-away opposite the Jug, Jason and I returned to the Leamington Garret. We sat on the roof outside my bedroom, smoking his roll-ups and talking deeper and darker.

I was alarmed he insisted on sitting on the wall. It is around 100 foot down, a sheer drop. He could not be persuaded otherwise.

We talked of the madness of life in India and it made me think of all the horrible/wonderful things I saw in Ecuador. They are places where there is no safety net.



Well, I commend Jason’s photographs to you. I thank him for the permission to publish them on this site. Obviously, they are his copyright, so if you are interested in promoting them elsewhere, please email him through this site or Photography Blog.

He is a masterful photographer and deserves a huge break.

Apart from this special blog, I cannot resist a little round-up of what else has been happening:




· My flatmate brought home Taxi Driver on DVD. Watching it reminded me of what a great movie it is. Here, in reverse order, are my favourite 10 scenes:

10. Travis (Robert De Niro) driving through the burst fire hydrants in New York City,
9. Another taxi driver in the coffee house bullshitting about his sexual conquests with female fares,
8. Travis teasing the Secret Service man, giving him the wrong address and then the slip,
7. His first sight of Iris (Jodie Foster), the schoolgirl hooker he decides to save from a life on the streets,
6. Travis driving the presidential candidate and telling him the human scum needed to be washed off the streets of New York City,
5. Travis walking into the campaign office and super confidently and successfully asking out the beautiful Betsy (Cybill Shepherd),
4. The very moving reading of the letter from Iris’s grateful parents,
3. Travis inspecting an impressive selective of firearms and buying the lot,
2. Travis taking Betsy on their first proper date to a pornographic movie with a predictable reaction from her,
1.The big finale shoot-out in which Travis blows away the pimps, rescues Iris and emerges an all-American hero. Cool! Taxi Driver is a great film!




· I cycled for five miles through a thrilling lightning storm the other morning. It was incredible. The forks of lightning seemed all around the mountain bike. The water was coming down in rivers. I could not see, it was so heavy. My eyes were full of it. For the first time in my life I was literally soaked to the skin.



Big Ken. (Flashback to Tuesday, 9 May 2006)

Leamington Garret. 6.24pm by ‘The Clock’. I can get a really good reading from it in good weather with my glasses on. Sometimes in the dark, however, I am making a wild stab at it, and, yet, it is so more romantic telling the time this way than by looking at the clock on the computer (which I have taped over).

On the way here, I heard on Radio 4 the Six O’Clock bongs of Big Ben, and, I thought that Our Clock needs a name: Big Bill, Big Wen - or Big Ken, perhaps.

I am going over to Meriden to see my photographer friend Jason.

Oliver's Poetry

Trinidad and Tobago / Blair & Brown

Trinidad and Tobago.

Lewes Garret Last night as I was travelling down from Leamington, I wrote this: 6.56pm. Thank God! Praise the Lord! England have finally scored.

I have been trying to monitor their progress on my mobile telephone.There is a running commentary of sorts running on the BBC website which I can access in a very limited form.

England have not been playing well. I am glad I have not watching the game. I dropped into the bookies at Victoria Station where a crowd had gathered to watch it on their little telly. I could not even see the screen.

‘What is the score?’ I asked an unshaven gentleman.

‘Nil, nil,’ he grunted almost inaudibly.

‘Pardon,’ I said.

‘NIL, NIL,’ he shouted as if it was my fault.

I slunk off in abject silence.

Reading the commentary on my mobile telephone – surely the strangest way to experience a football match – I could tell the commentator was increasingly frustrated by England’s succession of blown chances.

They are going to have to try much harder than this if they are to beat Brazil (or Argentina, Spain, Italy, the Czech Republic or Germany).

The day has been tricky. A people problem which could potentially become a bit awkward. Investors in People have really put the cat among the pigeons.

I also had a row with the people at AXA PPP Healthcare who are now, it seems to me, welching on their agreement to back for my back treatment.

Typical insurers, they are delightful until you try to claim. I have recommended that we sack them.

The journey down seems interminable. On the Warwick – London Marylebone leg I was in a carriage air-conditioned to fridge temperatures. I eventually moved into a carriage occupied by two elderly Australian couples.

‘It’s been two-and-a-half hours already,’ said an old dear, as we were crawling toward Marylebone at half-a-mile per hour.

The ancient Aussie bloke in the other couple said: ‘A long way to come for a cheese and tomato sandwich!’

Today (Friday): 8am Lewes Garret. It is beautiful outside. Absolutely glorious. I slept well but my back is murder again. What cads the insurance people are for trying to welch on our arrangement!

I am going to London today to meet a magazine editor. There will also be plenty of celebration in our household later to mark the end of the GCSE exams.

Moreover, I have received two emails – one from my dear friend Dominic Baster – and the other from fellow blogger Olivia of Olivia's London Dispatches who has kindly said she will link to my site from hers.

Blair & Brown (Flashback to Friday, 19 May 2006)

Lewes Garret 10.38pm. Bed. Noisily stormy outside. What kind of weather is this for mid-May? It could be deepest January. I am worried because I am not writing poetry at any great rate.

Stayed sober again tonight. Even though wine was out, I only had a couple of tiny glasses. I have come across very few of the people Alan Clark mentions in his diaries – we are from different generations.

However, he did mention drinking in the Ritz with 'Franko' – Frank Johnson who was, I recall Deputy Editor of the Sunday Telegraph when I started working there in 1995.

I was such an insignificant journalist that the great Frank Johnson would not have been aware of my existence, but my then drinking mate, the paper's defence correspondent, quaffed with him and quipped: 'Franky Johnson – Cockney w*****'.

This was a joke I never understood, although I would smile to humour him. Clark writes that Franko was 'clever, his wit and insight so engaging'.

Earlier, I bumped into a political hack mate who lives down the road from me in Lewes. A very decent chap who I have known for yonks. Like me he has reported for the Daily Star and Sunday Telegraph.

Unlike me, he is still in journalism, at the Daily Express. Interestingly, his analysis of the Blair/Brown situation was identical to mine. We agreed Blair was determined to destroy Brown's chances of winning at the next General Election.

Tony Blair secretly wants David Cameron to win!

The Cotesbach Rioters / Inclement Conditions

The Cotesbach Rioters.

Leamington Garret. 7.34am. A beautiful morning, and, hopefully, a beautiful day.

I am in a fairly good mood, despite not sleeping well last night. I went over to Cotesbach and saw Tom, Sophy, Dave (pictured on the classic motorcycle he has restored), Phil, Jane, and Taciturn Tom.

A good night. Won at Staghorn again (and bought beers for everyone with my winners). Tom was highly amused to hear of the first live broadcast of a Staghorn match last week.

Soon Staghorn will be as big a pub game as pool or darts!

I took a photograph of the village pond (left) which I helped to build (one of my proudest moments!)

There was much talk of celebrations to mark the 400th anniversary of the Cotesbach Rioters (and their riot) next year. Sophy had been having a meeting with the villagers in the Hall about it.

I think it could be a most enjoyable occasion to revisit the marvellous piece of history of the Cotesbach Rioters.



I got back at just after 11pm and caught the last two songs at the Jug and Jester jam night (although it had closed its bars) and had a beer on my own at Kelseys.

Inclement Conditions (Flashback to Saturday, 20 May 2006)

9.43am. Lewes Garret. Inclement conditions; wet and wind. Despite the weather, today's outlook is fairly bright. The combination of staying sober, and taking cola and ginseng instead of booze, are working wonders for me.

8.16pm. Lewes Garret, Living Room, basking by the open fire. It is cold, wet and windy outside – like the bleak mid-winter – and almost as inclement within.

Had a great time on an outing to Eastbourne, shopping, walking, talking, and beating the slot machines. Played the horse-racing game, putting in 10 pences on the red or the blue (2-1) odds, trying to spot winning runs, and also backing the white (25-1).

As a result of this strategy, I covered my costs much of the time and, occasionally, won £2.50, at which point we would retire from the game. I was quids in by the time we quit the arcade on the pier and headed for the shops to spend my ill-gotten gains.

The weather was wonderful; sunny, hot on the face, and windy. Walking down one side of the pier, I were able to lean 45 degrees into the wind it was so strong. The sea was wonderful hue of green with vertical explosions of spray as the breakers hit the groynes. A sublime sight!