No, don't stop the Notting Hill Carnival

The spirit of Carnival: to cancel this year's event would be a shameful overreaction
12 April 2012

Should the Notting Hill Carnival go ahead following the riots? Yes, of course it should. As a long-term resident of the area I am increasingly fed up with my front garden being used as a public loo (and worse besides). The noise, rubbish and sheer volume of people are intolerable and I yearn for it to relocate to Hyde Park, as former Mayor Ken Livingstone once suggested. But to cancel it this year would be completely the wrong thing to do - and for all the wrong reasons.

As football matches are called off and Parliament is recalled (a pointless exercise, simply to prove that not all politicians are on their sunloungers) we are in danger of losing our heads and over- reacting. A plethora of Facebook sites have been set up this week, including Stop the Notting HIll Carnival Now and Stop the Notting Hill Carnival for Safety Sake. The social networking sites are in danger of becoming anti-social sites.

There were similar calls to cancel the Carnival after the July bombings in 2005 but it went ahead. Just as we shouldn't give in to terrorists, so we shouldn't capitulate to a bunch of opportunistic hoodlums who barely number a few hundred. If we can't even organise a Carnival, what sort of message will this send to the world about the Olympics?

Yes, it will be a drain on police resources - but it is a drain every year and it's up to the police and the organisers to liaise and make sure it passes off without major incident.

In fact given that more than a million people attend, it is astonishing how little disorder there is at Carnival. Gradual improvements have been made such as earlier start and finishing times. Scale it back further, if we must, but don't let the killjoys win the day. For many people it is the highlight of the year; hundreds of steel drummers have spent months rehearsing. It would be a shame if all their hard work went to waste.

We should not forget that huge swathes of London stayed riot-free. And as the residents of Clapham and Croydon demonstrated, far more people are willing to clean up the streets than trash them. Our streets should be reclaimed by those who love them. And there is no better example of this community spirit than the Notting Hill Carnival. Let the steel drums ring out. But please, please when it's all over, can it be relocated next year?

* Mat Collishaw, a former Young British Artist, complains that the world of street art is overrun by the middle classes and is full of the privileged few who are affecting a political conciousness. I can only assume he means Banksy. I wonder if he approves of the graffiti painters who daubed "Welcome to Hackney" on the walls and hoardings after the riots. Not all of them came from privileged backgrounds - but does that make their street art any more artistic?

Getting to the bottom of actors' interaction

Jeremy Irons says a pat on a woman's bottom shouldn't end up in court. "It's communication. Can't we be friendly?" he asks.

Well, it depends on the size of the bottom, I suppose. Some people may not want to be reminded they have a large behind. And even those with small posteriors may not welcome this unsolicited advance.

Sexual harassment? No, but it is certainly bad manners. There's friendliness and then there's over-friendliness. And why can't he communicate with his mouth like the rest of us?
But perhaps I am being too harsh. Actors are by their very nature touchy-feely and there is clearly no harm in letting them touch each other's bottoms. How marvellous it would be, darling, if the fleeting luvvie kiss (mwah, mwah) could be replaced with the luvvie bottom pat.

The distractions of a night at the outdoor opera

This week I achieved a long-held ambition and attended the Holland Park Opera. The production of Verdi's Rigoletto was most enjoyable and a perfect respite from all the grim news of economic meltdown and riots. Not a hoodlum in sight nor a screeching peacock, which I gather used to be a perennial problem.

Instead, opera-goers have a new alien to contend with - the pesky parakeets. Luckily they were drowned out by some fine singing. But soon a worse distraction was to befall me.
Shortly before the Duke's cynical canzone, "La donna e mobile" (woman is fickle), my wife turned to me and said she recognised the conductor was an old boyfriend from university. News to me. Wife imitating art?

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