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Paxman lends voice to John Wilkes bronze in talking statues project Paxman lends voice to John Wilkes bronze in talking statues project
(about 4 hours later)
Every day thousands of people pass by without a second glance at the tall man in a frock coat, holding a sheaf of papers, standing on a stone plinth in Fetter Lane – the heart of London's legal quarter. But now he has found his voice, and it is a curiously familiar one. Every day thousands of people pass by the statue of a tall man wearing a frock coat, holding a sheaf of papers and standing on a stone plinth in Fetter Lane – the heart of London's legal quarter. But now he has found his voice, and it is curiously familiar.
"It's the ugliest man in England here," it snaps, "but leave me alone with your wife or daughter, and you'd better be back within 20 minutes or I'll have talked my face away and we'll be upstairs." "It's the ugliest man in England here," his voice snaps, "but leave me alone with your wife or daughter, and you would better be back within 20 minutes or I'll have talked my face away and we'll be upstairs."
The broadcaster Jeremy Paxman wrote and recorded the monologue for the 18th century parliamenterian, advocate of free speech and political liberty, and rakehell, John Wilkes. "The establishment didn't like me of course – it took 200 years before this statue of the ugliest man in England was erected," snarls Paxo as the voice of the statue. The broadcaster Jeremy Paxman wrote and recorded the monologue for the 18th century parliamentarian, advocate of free speech and political liberty, and rakehell, John Wilkes. "The establishment didn't like me, of course – it took 200 years before this statue of the ugliest man in England was erected," snarls Paxman as Wilkes.
The bronze by James Butler, installed in 1988, is one of dozens in London and Manchester which, for the next year, will speak to anyone who swipes a smartphone across a nearby tag. The newly articulate include Abraham Lincoln in Manchester, voiced by Tom Conti; Sherlock Holmes in Baker Street, whose text was written by Anthony Horowitz and spoken by Ed Stoppard, and Isaac Newton outside the British Library, who is voiced by Simon Russell Beale to words by Timberlake Wertenbaker. The bronze by James Butler, installed in 1988, is one of dozens in London and Manchester which, for the next year, will speak to anyone who swipes a smartphone across a nearby tag after which the statue then politely calls the user's phone and speaks. The newly articulate include Abraham Lincoln in Manchester, voiced by Tom Conti; Sherlock Holmes in Baker Street, whose text was written by Anthony Horowitz and spoken by Ed Stoppard, and Isaac Newton outside the British Library, who is voiced by Simon Russell Beale to words by Timberlake Wertenbaker.
L S Lowry's statue in Manchester was given words by Kiran Benawra, which are spoken by David Neilson, and Queen Victoria was loaned the voice of Prunella Scales to sound a bit grumpy about being marooned on Blackfriars Bridge. Playwright Mark Ravenhill, who wrote words for the Manchester statue of Bletchley Park genius Alan Turing said: "It was a no-brainer to agree to do it, and for about three days I really understood the science, too." LS Lowry's statue in Manchester was given words by Kiran Benawra, which are spoken by David Neilson, and Queen Victoria was lent the voice of Prunella Scales to sound a bit grumpy about being marooned on Blackfriars Bridge.
The playwright Mark Ravenhill, who wrote words for the Manchester statue of the Bletchley Park computer genius Alan Turing, said: "It was a no-brainer to agree to do it, and for about three days I really understood the science, too."
Hodge, Samuel Johnson's cat, gained immortality through the biographer James Boswell, who hated cats himself but recorded that the great man went out himself to buy it oysters, and when he spoke of aristocratic thugs going round the city shooting cats, stroked his own pet reassuringly and promised: "But Hodge shan't be shot; no, no, Hodge shall not be shot."Hodge, Samuel Johnson's cat, gained immortality through the biographer James Boswell, who hated cats himself but recorded that the great man went out himself to buy it oysters, and when he spoke of aristocratic thugs going round the city shooting cats, stroked his own pet reassuringly and promised: "But Hodge shan't be shot; no, no, Hodge shall not be shot."
A lifesize bronze cat – by the sculptor Jon Bickley, who modelled it on his own cat, Thomas Henry – was installed outside Johnson's house in Gough Square in 1997, and instantly became one of the best loved statues in London, regularly sporting a bow of red tape added by lawyers, a tartan scarf in winter, and a few coins left for luck in the oyster shells by its feet. The cat now also has an instantly recognisable voice the purring tones of Radio 4's Just A Minute host, Nicholas Parsons. A lifesize bronze cat – by the sculptor Jon Bickley, who modelled it on his own pet, Thomas Henry – was installed outside Johnson's house in Gough Square in 1997, and instantly became one of the best loved statues in London, regularly sporting a bow of red tape added by passing lawyers, a tartan scarf in winter, and a few coins left for luck in the oyster shells by its feet.
"Everybody said yes," said Colette Hiller, creative director of Sing London – the arts producers who devised the year-long project. "We never had to badger anyone, everyone just got it at once and said yes. We danced a little jig in the office when we got Paxo in fact we danced a little jig whenever anyone said yes, it became a very jig-dancing office. The much-loved cat now also has an instantly recognisable voice – the purring tones of Radio 4's Just A Minute host, Nicholas Parsons.
"So many people will never set foot in a museum, and even if they do they spend only a few seconds looking at each object, and still less if they pass a statue in the street so I wondered if we could find a way of getting people to stop and pay attention for a few minutes." "Everybody said yes," said Colette Hiller, creative director of Sing London the arts producers who devised the year-long project. "We never had to badger anyone, everyone just got it at once and said yes.
More statues will be speaking up in the next few weeks, and the public is also invited to compete by submitting 400-word scripts for four statues, including Shakespeare at the British Library and a T rex at the Manchester museum. "We danced a little jig in the office when we got Paxo in fact we danced a little jig whenever anyone said yes, it became a very jig-dancing office''.
The monologues are intended to last for about two minutes, which the organisers felt was the concentration limit for someone standing on a cold street corner. Paxman's was quite a bit longer, and they suggested a few cuts. Hiller flinches at the memory of the response. "So many people will never set foot in a museum, and even if they do they spend only a few seconds looking at each object, and still less if they pass a statue in the street so I wondered if we could find a way of getting people to stop and pay attention for a few minutes," she added.
The final cut, running through Wilkes's hideous squint-eyed and pug-jawed appearance, flaming intelligence, spectacular drunkeness, passionate advocacy of political reform and universal suffrage as well as his hero status among radicals and contrarians across the world, ends with an abrupt "now go away" and runs for 3.44 minutes. More statues will be speaking up in the next few weeks, and the public is also invited to compete by submitting 400-word scripts for four statues, including Shakespeare at the British Library and a tyrannosaurus rex at the Manchester museum.
The monologues are intended to last for about two minutes, which the organisers felt was the concentration limit for someone standing on what could be a cold street corner.
Paxman's was quite a bit longer, and they suggested a few cuts. Hiller flinches at the memory of the response.
The final cut, running through Wilkes's hideous squint-eyed and pug-jawed appearance, flaming intelligence, spectacular drunkenness, passionate advocacy of political reform and universal suffrage as well as his hero status among radicals and contrarians across the world, ends with an abrupt "now go away" – and runs for 3 minutes 44 seconds.