Hook End Manor ("Ouija Board..." video) abandoned

Not sure if this has been posted on here, but Hook End Manor appears to be abandoned, ouija board video room looks pretty trashed.

David Gilmour’s abandoned mansion gives Danzig’s shitty house a run for its money - Consequence Of Sound
Abandoned games of Scrabble and billiards, wallpaper falling off the walls, and a gravestone in the basement

41859_david-gilmour-house-2.jpg



Posted by SuedeMoz:

...here's a still from the video showing the room:

41860_ouija_board_still.jpg
 
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Charity shop chic meets peak Smiths. As perfect a performance as any band in any era has achieved.
 
Moz looked very good there!
Almost like the Moz-father and so proud. There is a strange change of roles here as if he is the father of Iggy, instead of Iggy being the father of Moz.

I also notice the slight devilish, cheeky expression on his face, his famous eyebrows, one of them almost in the form of an arrow pointing skywards.

There is a photo with Lou Reed which more or less gave me the same feeling.

I know Moz is not an actor as he said before, but he surely has a number of facial expressions at his disposal an actor would be jealous of.

I missed that in Sam’s Facebook video.
He seemed a bit shaken.
Don’t let the bastards grind you down Moz!

You proved you are a tough cookie and “Low In Highschool” is an extraordinary album.
A demonstration of Highschool in art!
I agree ...u see how nice it looks with MOZ in it and now that he is away it falls apart....everything he does turns great like LIHS...YES QUANDO I AGREE
 
Nobody can get it right 100% of the time.
He was quick off the mark when identifying the very-soon-to-be-realised worldwide appeal of The Ordinary Boys though!

LOL
In his defence he very quickly distanced himself from The Ordinary Boys and he disliked the singer. So that at least should count for something.
 
Autobiography

"Maladjusted had been recorded once again at my spiritual home, Hook End Manor. Time at Hook End had always been a time to reflect on velvet lawns of dreaming spires where the quiet winds its way. The most bucolic spot of winsome British charm, the lithely blithe Hook End shelters specters dating back to the 1700s, and an underground tunnel from the 1200s. Unmarked by the injuries of time, the bosom of Hook End melted everybody’s heart with its greenest of greens against the bluest of skies; a paradise of deafening birdsong around the red- and mellow-bricked splendor of jutting chimneys and latticed windows – all leftovers from the Jacobean era of liturgical dramas. Silence always, except for the occasional 747 waved off at Heathrow, or the caws of crows as they chase off a bird of prey. There are lush lawns for games never played, and majestic trees blocking out the ugly outer world. To live this way forever, amid lavender and foxglove, cracked flagstones and fluted birdsong, jet-trails and giant snails, batty bats just missing your hats, show-off peacocks on outhouse sheds, where watching television seems like a sinful waste of life. The staff and their pets, the owners and vets, all change with time, yet I remain, a constant of three decades of waxed floors and soothing mid-day soup. The photographs for the original Kill Uncle are taken on the Hook End lawns; the smiling Greatest Hits cover taken in the White Room; the lounging Piccadilly palare cover taken in the same room; the Our Frank cover taken in the woods behind the house; the Ouija board video filmed in those same woods; the Sing your life photographs taken further into the same woods; an NME ad sees me emerging from the dining-room doors; the sleeve for Interesting drug taken in the Brown Room upstairs. Hardly a yard of Hook End stands without its Morrissey mark, a history full of sentiment for me, if no one else, with tears always gathering at the final umbilical slash."
 
I remember Gustavo saying at a “25 Live” film screening I attended with my wife that Moz and the band used Hook End as a pre-tour rehearsal space for the 2011 UK summer tour. I guess that must have been Moz’s last visit there?
 


Charity shop chic meets peak Smiths. As perfect a performance as any band in any era has achieved.

Totally. This is the Smiths performance I return to the most. It's sublime in every way: musically, stylistically, performance-wise. I also love the bit that follows in Vicar in a Tutu when Morrissey is down on his knees singing 'I am a living sign' with a beatific look on his face. Sheer brilliance.
 
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Autobiography

"Maladjusted had been recorded once again at my spiritual home, Hook End Manor. Time at Hook End had always been a time to reflect on velvet lawns of dreaming spires where the quiet winds its way. The most bucolic spot of winsome British charm, the lithely blithe Hook End shelters specters dating back to the 1700s, and an underground tunnel from the 1200s. Unmarked by the injuries of time, the bosom of Hook End melted everybody’s heart with its greenest of greens against the bluest of skies; a paradise of deafening birdsong around the red- and mellow-bricked splendor of jutting chimneys and latticed windows – all leftovers from the Jacobean era of liturgical dramas. Silence always, except for the occasional 747 waved off at Heathrow, or the caws of crows as they chase off a bird of prey. There are lush lawns for games never played, and majestic trees blocking out the ugly outer world. To live this way forever, amid lavender and foxglove, cracked flagstones and fluted birdsong, jet-trails and giant snails, batty bats just missing your hats, show-off peacocks on outhouse sheds, where watching television seems like a sinful waste of life. The staff and their pets, the owners and vets, all change with time, yet I remain, a constant of three decades of waxed floors and soothing mid-day soup. The photographs for the original Kill Uncle are taken on the Hook End lawns; the smiling Greatest Hits cover taken in the White Room; the lounging Piccadilly palare cover taken in the same room; the Our Frank cover taken in the woods behind the house; the Ouija board video filmed in those same woods; the Sing your life photographs taken further into the same woods; an NME ad sees me emerging from the dining-room doors; the sleeve for Interesting drug taken in the Brown Room upstairs. Hardly a yard of Hook End stands without its Morrissey mark, a history full of sentiment for me, if no one else, with tears always gathering at the final umbilical slash."

I live in Reading, not all that far from Hook End Manor. If you want to go shopping and were staying there your two choices are Oxford, where there still to this day isn’t all that much to do, and Reading, which is a full on consumer town, and still, I believe, the busiest shopping destination in this corner of the UK outside London’s hellish Oxford Street.

One day in 1989 I was walking down Broad Street, the main shopping road - when who should be walking towards me, perhaps ten yards away at most, but someone who was the absolute spitting image of Morrissey.

I dismissed it as a fan/lookalike because, well, why on earth would he be here, the valley town they forgot to close down? It was only when I bought Ouija Board, Ouija Board a few months later I realised he had been recording locally and I had almost certainly seen my musical hero and convinced myself I couldn’t have.
 
I always wondered where this room was. There's a photo of Manic Street Preachers in their Gold Against The Soul album booklet in the same room. It's a shame that Hook End's fallen into disrepair - did David Gilmour live there? I believe he lives on a boat now?
 

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Funny, I always thought that room in the video had a cartoonish look about it - as though the colours had been tweaked and the chairs looked over-large. Even Mozzer's quiff has an improbably towering look about it. I honestly thought that the wallpaper had been added digitally for effect (although in truth I don't know if the technology to do that was available then). I am quite surprised to see that it really did look like that.
 
I live in Reading, not all that far from Hook End Manor. If you want to go shopping and were staying there your two choices are Oxford, where there still to this day isn’t all that much to do, and Reading, which is a full on consumer town, and still, I believe, the busiest shopping destination in this corner of the UK outside London’s hellish Oxford Street.

One day in 1989 I was walking down Broad Street, the main shopping road - when who should be walking towards me, perhaps ten yards away at most, but someone who was the absolute spitting image of Morrissey.

I dismissed it as a fan/lookalike because, well, why on earth would he be here, the valley town they forgot to close down? It was only when I bought Ouija Board, Ouija Board a few months later I realised he had been recording locally and I had almost certainly seen my musical hero and convinced myself I couldn’t have.
My friend attended Reading university in the early 2000s and he spotted Morrissey in a bookshop in Reading. Apparently Morrissey was squatting down fingering through a passage (no pun intended). My friend Tom approached him and said, "excuse me, are you Morrissey?"
Morrissey rose to his feet and said "Yes, I am."
My friend in his socially awkward manner smiled, nodded and abruptly shuffled away.
Not the best Morrissey story, but it's the only one I have.
 
My friend attended Reading university in the early 2000s and he spotted Morrissey in a bookshop in Reading. Apparently Morrissey was squatting down fingering through a passage (no pun intended). My friend Tom approached him and said, "excuse me, are you Morrissey?"
Morrissey rose to his feet and said "Yes, I am."
My friend in his socially awkward manner smiled, nodded and abruptly shuffled away.
Not the best Morrissey story, but it's the only one I have.

Almost certainly our glorious Waterstones, which occupies an old chapel, including a stunning rotunda. I was in there yesterday and I’m pleased to report it was rammed right up the apse with Christmas shoppers.
 
Autobiography

"Maladjusted had been recorded once again at my spiritual home, Hook End Manor. Time at Hook End had always been a time to reflect on velvet lawns of dreaming spires where the quiet winds its way. The most bucolic spot of winsome British charm, the lithely blithe Hook End shelters specters dating back to the 1700s, and an underground tunnel from the 1200s. Unmarked by the injuries of time, the bosom of Hook End melted everybody’s heart with its greenest of greens against the bluest of skies; a paradise of deafening birdsong around the red- and mellow-bricked splendor of jutting chimneys and latticed windows – all leftovers from the Jacobean era of liturgical dramas. Silence always, except for the occasional 747 waved off at Heathrow, or the caws of crows as they chase off a bird of prey. There are lush lawns for games never played, and majestic trees blocking out the ugly outer world. To live this way forever, amid lavender and foxglove, cracked flagstones and fluted birdsong, jet-trails and giant snails, batty bats just missing your hats, show-off peacocks on outhouse sheds, where watching television seems like a sinful waste of life. The staff and their pets, the owners and vets, all change with time, yet I remain, a constant of three decades of waxed floors and soothing mid-day soup. The photographs for the original Kill Uncle are taken on the Hook End lawns; the smiling Greatest Hits cover taken in the White Room; the lounging Piccadilly palare cover taken in the same room; the Our Frank cover taken in the woods behind the house; the Ouija board video filmed in those same woods; the Sing your life photographs taken further into the same woods; an NME ad sees me emerging from the dining-room doors; the sleeve for Interesting drug taken in the Brown Room upstairs. Hardly a yard of Hook End stands without its Morrissey mark, a history full of sentiment for me, if no one else, with tears always gathering at the final umbilical slash."

í think he likes it...


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