Artober

A lot of my friends have been down in London over the last few days schmoozing at parties for the Frieze and Zoo Art Fairs, little knowing that the event of the weekend was right here in the Midlands: The launch night of the Artober Festival in Leicester.

The incomparable Richard Peel did a solo proto-ballet, miming Club Silencio-style to a recording of his own voice and songs (can you imagine how postmodern that was?). If I sound like I'm mocking it, it's only 'cos I'm so jealous of his genius. If you missed it, you're a fool, buy his book to try to make up for it. Yes that's a cardboard guitar he's playing.

Cheesy compere Dave from Metro-Boulot-Dodo asked us to come up with even worse puns than the name of the festival, I came up with loads, including my favourite: Whoregust - a summer festival celebrating the oldest profession.

During this, Phil Henderson heckled Dave with the killer line "What about Goth?" a propos of nothing, then did a compelling keyboard set of drones and repetitions. It was constantly teasing the edge of being painful: Phil's expression switched from absorbed masochism to serene sadism and back again.

At one point you could just about hear him say "Goth" in the middle of some inhuman whines and muttering. The joys of delayed gratification.