Halloween. October 2017.

Dear Rowley, I’ve never been a fan of Halloween. As you know, Bloomsbury is the heart of occult London. We have the most esoteric bookshops, occult emporia, the mysticism of the Seven Dials and the heritage of Aleister Crowley’s Golden … Continue reading

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Falling Stars. September 2017.

Dear Rowley, The sadness of watching Nick Broomfield’s documentary about the late Whitney Houston last night. You might disagree but I think the single greatest gift a person can be born with is a voice. Voices like Whitney’s come once … Continue reading

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Divine Intervention. July 2015.

Dear Rowley, When Atlantic Records producer Ahmet Erteg√ľn first laid eyes on Bette Midler he cut to the heart of her act: a class performer masquerading as trash. The Divine Miss M persona took elements of Mae West, Sophie Tucker … Continue reading

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In Her Solitude. February 2012.

Dear Rowley, Slightly chilling, isn’t it, that Whitney Houston died alone in a hotel room as a guest for Grammy Awards when the artists who had long eclipsed her were probably surrounded by stylists, publicists, fans and record producers making … Continue reading

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