Day 4

Day 4 (its now day 6(!) and I’m catching up) 

Today my schedule is to

- Go to the library, check out the community group board, and read a local newspaper

- Go to an event called An Introduction to Knowledge Transfer Partnerships

- Go to Cafe 1 in Bury Park

- Go and see the football match at Bury Park (Luton Town Vs Brentford)

Never Too Much by Luther Vandross, 1981

The busy road outside my room has some interesting surprises. I’ve seen Ryan Air flight attendants in blue uniforms coming up and down, a middle aged man picking up and taking the wisened stick I talked about yesterday, and now there is a lady singing Never Too Much - Luther Vandross’s 80s hit. She’s singing loud and pacing down the road. yeeessssss! The suns shining. I immediately listen to it loudly on my headphones. There’s something so great about people singing or dancing publicly, feeling good in their own self-expression to the world. I've added it here so you can have a listen too.

Today is a slow start. I had a Skype interview in the morning – a panel of 5 people on a screen in my room. I catch glimpses of me in the small box at the side of my screen, flashes of slightly wild arms gesticulating whilst doing my presentation.

Ok... so back to Luton.

I cycled down to the University, which is in the centre of town. I feel ease with going to into the building; this type of space is familiar to me. I work as a tutor on an art and design foundation course in London, and in 2016 I went and studied a 2 year masters. I’m a little late. I try to find the room but there are multiple events. I almost get stuck in an event about volunteering. There are lots of free croissants and it’s tempting to stay. But no, I must find the room. I am misdirected, but then I find where I need to go. A small group of 4 people turn around, one of which I met at the Speech Bubbles event. I’m surprised this is an Eventbrite event as it’s quite niche. ‘Is this Knowledge Transfer Partnerships?’ I ask. ‘Yes, hello!’ says the man giving the PowerPoint, adding ‘I don’t know you do I?’. ‘Hello’, I reply. ‘I am an artist researcher in Luton for the month’. ‘What does that mean?’ he replies. ‘Well’, I say. ‘I’m here to write about Luton and I’m an artist and a researcher’. ‘Ok’, he says. ‘Come and take a seat’. 

He says he wasn’t really expecting anyone to come and he’s very encouraging of my questions. He tries to get me up to speed on the UK governments' Industrial Strategy which is fundamental to understanding Knowledge Transfer Partnerships. He explains the Industrial Strategy is the approach the government started taking around 1995 and went hand in hand with a strategy to reduce financial input into public services. He talks about the ‘magic money tree’. Oh no! My mind jumps to Theresa May and austerity. I try to stay focused. The aim of the Industrial Strategy is now to effect 3 main issues – the future of mobility, an ageing population, and clean growth. Knowledge Transfer Partnerships are a governmental scheme started in 2003 to partner university researchers with businesses that feed into these industrial strategy goals. 

Knowledge Transfer Partnerships must exist to increase the profits of business. For anything to be funded this has to be an aim. So this is about economic growth, and making sure academia feeds directly into this. Hmm. I think to all the university lecturers on strike and students with them in solidarity right now. Lecturers are on strike because for many there is an increased precarity to their work. The rise in short term contracts which means that universities don’t have to pay wages over the summer holidays, the increased expectation to work without the pay to match, the overwork. ‘Its not that they don’t have the money and cant afford to pay people’ a friend who worked in academia told me, but they are run as businesses. They want to accumulate money and they try to attract customers by making sure they sell their product. I think to the rise of universities commissioning fancy buildings – The Royal College of Art where I studied my masters has employed famous architects Herzog & de Meuron to build a new building (glass and steel obviously), which replaced a huge warehouse type space formally used by the sculpture students. It was a huge space, a bit run down, somewhere where you felt like you were in an art school. I guess this is the type of space that art students and many artists (particularly in cities where property speculation is rife) won’t see any more. Now at art school you get a small ikea desk and a bit of wall space in a glass and steel building.

‘What about the arts’ I ask? ‘Well if they partner with an organisation who makes a large percentage of their money through business and your input as a researcher would impact on their business you would be able to apply’. Hmm. What about funding the research that doesn’t impact on business and profit margins? What is really being valued here? How is academic research being valued? This stuff is so normalised now we forget that it was ever a choice to run things in this way. Capitalist Realism! Mark Fisher. I’m thinking of your words now.

I leave feeling upset. Luckily downstairs they have moved onto lunchtime and there is some free sandwiches. I nestle in one of the comfy chairs and eat some cheese sandwiches.

Onto the library! My favourite space in any town. You can go and hang out there with other people and you don’t have to pay anything. There are lots of books. You can use their plugs! I often go to work in library spaces, I really like them and I have a lot more to say about them - particularly about the chronic underfunding and closure of many of them by the Conservative government wreaking havoc through austerity but I’m not going to talk about this today!again! I have a look around. There are a lot of public services in the building and there is a lot of people here. Like Wetherspoons, I notice that there are quite a lot of middle-aged men here alone, and students (possibly). I go to ask about the local newspapers, and a very friendly librarian tells me that they have some out the back. She will bring me one. She tells me about the Herald that used to come very frequently, but now it only comes occasionally. Most people read online she tells me. I think about the death of many of the local newspapers. I look it up - around 245 local newspapers have closed down since 2005. https://www.pressgazette.co.uk/more-than-40-local-news-titles-closed-in-2018-with-loss-of-some-editorial-275-jobs-new-figures-show/

I am struck by the two local newspaper’s different headlines. I think about the important role local newspapers play in how local community and political narratives are formed.

I have a scan through both of them. I still love the personals! And of course the local stories, which are as important as the national stories. Well. They are the national stories.

Onwards to the café and football! I’m happy because I'm starting to get to know Luton's streets and I don’t need to constantly check Google maps any more. There is a stream of people heading to the stadium. Like tributaries running towards a river, people are coming from all directions, looking determined, walking fast in the cold. Some guy is talking about good weed behind me walking to the stadium. There are single middle aged men (again) and men in groups, a lot of white men. A few families. Not so many women. No women on their own. I start to feel a bit nervous. I wish I was with a family. I just want to blend in. Got my orange anorak on. Be anonymous, be anonymous.

A1 café is full so I try somewhere else. There looks like a very popular Chinese restaurant and it’s got a good trip advisor rating. Could be good. But then I see a Sri Lankan dosa place called A One Dosa opposite. The name rings a bell. I’m sure I heard people talk about this place the other day when I was at the Revoluton offices. Ok I’m going there. I cross the road and go in. It’s a small place and I immediately feel at home. I’m so happy I’m here. The smell of the spices! So good. I order a dosa, a masala tea, 2 samosas, and some gulab jamun to take away. Feeling good. Beautiful metal cup and saucer. I take a picture to send to my boyfriend who I think will like it. The masala tea is delicious.

I’m a little late for the football match. This was purposeful I’m afraid. I got a little overwhelmed, and I know I’ll still be able to get in after it starts, but without the crowd – I’m 10 minutes late for the match still clutching my plastic bag with gulab jamun.

It’s a very cold night. I find the stadium, one of the attendants checks my tickets and I sidle through a very narrow gateway. I hear the roar. I try to find my seat. Still clutching my plastic bag. I can’t find it. I get overwhelmed and come back down below the stands to ask an attendant. I ask ‘do I have to sit down’ yes he says. Ok I go back up and find my row. Its full. There’s no spare seat! Luckily I see empty space on the other side of the row. I go round. Bingo! I’m next to a family with some awkward looking teenage kids. Yes!!!

And I’m in luck because Luton has an orange kit!!! I’m wearing orange anorak.

Hoods up…. C’mon LUUUTOOON Bang bang

A wave of all embracing warmth hits me as I sit down – I guess its all the bodies close together.

Unison of sound rises up.

I assume a stereotyped masculine position, my legs slightly apart. I’m a little overwhelmed.

I copy clapping when everyone does it. I can’t really focus, so I try to copy.

Luton is already 1-0 up.

Yes I’m here. This is exciting. I’ve been to two football matches before – one in Mexico City and one in Charlton – both big stadiums. This is great being in a smaller one. Right behind the goal. So close I can see the footballers faces clearly.

Little thumbs up between goalkeeper and a teammate

I’m leaning in.

Trying to concentrate and type notes into my phone in near freezing conditions. I must look like I’m manically addicted to Twitter or perhaps I think – best case scenario a football journalist?

I try to notice the little details.

Like when the Goalkeeper saves he hugs the ball to floor and keeps it covered for like 5 seconds. It’s nice. It slows the moment down – I guess that’s the point? To give people time to focus again.

Bloody idiot!!! – someone shouts

I watch a footballer at the side of the pitch warming up, jumping in the air doing invisible headers

C'mmonnn molly

C’mon u hatters!!!

I like it when some people shout out lone comments, advice, or annoyance to the footballers and they don’t really sound convinced when they say it. It must have sounded better in their head.

Goal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 44 minutes in… 2-0

Yessssss aaaayyy

Beautiful huddle of all the footballers together.

Who are you who are you!!! Everyone shouts.

Its half time. I love the half time activities. I remember this from Mexico City. Firstly there are announcements - Happy birthday Jim whose 80 today!!! Then to the Golden Gamble sweepstake - £855! I love the people patting down the grass getting it ready for the next half. There’s a game thats being compared on the side of the pitch – 3 people compete to get a goal in a cut out board of holes. A little kid wins – I guess he’s like 12 years old. Yeaaah I’m happy he won the game. I expect more of a cheer from everyone – yeaaah the kid won, but there’s more of a gentle clap.

My fingers are like ice blocks it's hard to type

Still clutching my bag of gulab jamun

80s (not the pop classics kind) music blares out of the speakers.

The games about to start

Goalie bangs his boots against the goal post. Nice loud sound.

No one taking photos apart from me. This must be one of the few events where no one takes photos. 

There is faint whiff of booze

Amazing seeing the ball sway as it flies through the sky to the other end.

A little line of yellow colour is sprayed by the referee on the grass, being clear about where a footballer should take a free kick. 

Then the ball gets kicked into the crowd. Someone catches it. It’s a young person. They hold onto it like they've been given a memento. He holds it for a bit too long I don’t think he wants to give it back. He has the power. I see one of the footballers smile.

There is a sound like a cawing bird

The Luton goalkeeper goes to get the ball, holds the kids’ head, nuzzling him in to embrace his head on his chest. The crowd love it.

Sluuuuuga Sluugga Sluuuga. The crowd chants the goalkeepers name.

Then its 85 minutes gone. I leave early - a bit like how I arrived. On my way out I notice the words Free Gaza graffitied twice on the wall opposite the exit. 


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Below is what I was doing when I was half present ... (this is my internet search history from the day. You can click on an image to see more)