“Welcome to Utopia” said the policemen who greeted me, dressed head to toe in futuristic black uniforms and armed with batons and megaphones, their eyes shaded by large black glasses and visors. Mannequin-like air hostesses are soon to join, taking my hand and guiding me toward the queue which is has begun to wind its way around Canary Wharf’s banking district.
This isn’t one of those strange dreams where you wake up wondering what you ate - just the freakishly imaginative world of Secret Cinema, who by the looks of things, had really gone to town.
Coming from the speakers I heard the tinnish voice “Welcome to your new life. You have been specially selected on this journey” and bewildered businessmen looked about with confusion upon the growing crowds, who turned up in their hundreds decked out in goggles, turbans, vagabond hats, Oriental clothes and futuristic dress; just a handful of Secret Cinema’s specified uniforms for the night.
Once all were handed their ‘Utopia Airways Ticket’, we were escorted by anxious security teams and policemen in long brown overcoats to an abandoned warehouse. During this walk, the guards weaved in and out of the crowds speaking manically into radios and warning us to “Keep your goggles on. There’s Acid Rain approaching. This is a military operation”. As we approached the warehouse, passing huge freight containers and dipping through an alley way, we were accosted by Asian street sellers, over-head gangster fight scenes, ‘acid-rain’ and a man who sat in a trolley singing to himself in a trance-like state. In all honesty, I found him the most alarming.
Inside though is even better. The warehouse is dingy, and the ring of drum and base music and haze of the smoky atmosphere resembles a dingy rave of the 80’s. Here, we’re accosted by a selection of nutty professors building human body-parts in dusty laboratories, robot- heads, real live pythons, call girls, street stalls selling sushi, smashed up cars, live bands and roaming actors in black trench coats.
Now, can you guess the film yet?
Secret Cinema was founded in 1997 by Fabien Riggall, who was undoubtedly influenced by the secret Speak Easy gatherings of the 1920’s. Though Secret Cinema began in London, parallel events now take place in Brighton and periodically in other cities across the UK and the phenomenon continues to gain popularity, with tickets selling out almost instantly.
Although claiming to be a ‘cinema’ experience, Secret Cinema is arguably an art in its own right. Creatively combining theatre sets, live music, dancing, acting, AV and film, they bring to life an engrossing, multi-sensory experience; in fact even while the film is shown in the make-shift cinema space, actors are spot lit hanging from wires on the wall, re-enacting that famous fight scene.
If I look at Secret Cinema from an arts perspective, it’s not surprising that it’s so appealing. In a world where installation art is starting to prevail over the static canvas, Secret Cinema celebrates this notion of engagement, encounter and more importantly, entertainment.
Haven’t guessed it yet?
Blade Runner. But Tell No One.
I'll admit I love people watching, so chance had it that a small photography book, 'Emotions in Motion' arrived on my desk this morning helping me indulge in this passive pleasure without having to leave the office. The book features work by self-taught photographer Toufic Beyhum, who positioned himself on the U-Bahn in Berlin and captured photographs of passengers unaware of his lens. 
Louise Naughton Morgan, aka The Human Printer, takes on the role of the digital printer by breaking down images into their basic CMYK halftones, then spending up to 12-15 hours laboriously re-constructing them using felt tip pens, one layer after the next. Morgan's recent solo show at Shoreditch's KK Gallery was a great success and amidst all the hype and-dot-after-dot-after dot...I managed to tear her away for a quick interview.
Le Creative Sweatshop 
