ICA Experiences General/Unknown
i went to the ica and everyone was so up their fucking arses i had to go and have an enormous spliff in st james park
happened: always	by: betty snake
i went to the ica and it was full of wankers
happened: whenever	by: betty snake
It was the first time I'd visited the ICA - about 2 years ago. I never quite new where the Mall was, although I'd passed many times. I assumed some minor royal lived in that grand white building... or something. Anyway, I had to pay, just to visit some old friends from Newcastle at the bar. It was good, we all still got on well and the beers flowed. Unusually, I felt flirtatious and I asked this cool looking girl with a short fringe for a light. She took it for a pass, which it probably was without me really realising it. She was Hispanic American and her tow friends joined us. For once I wasn't stuck for words. We laughed, we drank and eventually we all went back to Brixton to catch a late drink at the Fridge Bar. My friend ended up snogging the girl with the fringe and they had a brief affair. She still loves him apparently, although he never knew the depth of her feelings. She's back in LA now, but we're still in touch. Not an extraordinary story, but hey, here's to aquaintances not forgot and to friends new and old.
happened: summer '97	by: Simon
i really like your project - xxx
happened: Unknown	by: mikey
it is said that the disabled toilets in the ica (the ones just off the foyer) is the best toilet space for sex in central london !! on the other hand the toilets by the bar are too small to piss in let alone have sex in
happened: Unknown	by: Anonymous
I had been to the ICA many times but never really knew where it was, usually guided by another. Each time the galleries took on different dimensions and orientations; my visits were so infrequent, it seemed like a different place each time. Now I live in London; I've found it!
happened: 1990-date	by: Anna K
somehow the toilets always seemed very calm at the ICA. A sorta grey laminex calm- prozac and plastic. And they had this weird *aroma* - a kind of scent unfound in the western world. Quite disturbing, actually.
happened: 1997	by: Lyle
Jings it just got so confusin' and as the Buff's would say "no time left an I know I'm losin...burned and with both feet off the ground" Kinda beamed in here by mistake via photo gallery and I "can't" as Steve Eric & Co would say "find my way home"
happened: End of last financial year of the millenium	by: rojbabe
Jings it just got so confusin' and as the Buff's would say "no time left an I know I'm losin...burned and with both feet off the ground" Kinda beamed in here by mistake via photo gallery and I "can't" as Steve Eric & Co would say "find my way home"
happened: End of last financial year of the millenium	by: rojbabe
I remember being miserable but not knowing it, I remember being miserable, knowing it, then quickly forgeting about it, I remember times when I was so miserable that I will never forget it at any time.
happened: today	by: Hemda
booking tickets to go see Robinson in Soace at the ICA cinema after a hard day of back-breaking floor sanding work. We had no idea that it coincided with the opening night of the Jake+Dinos Chapman show - the place was wall to wall art liggers, beautiful types and wannabe students. Our pre-booked cinema tickets meant we could walk staright in past the queue so we felt important and then has somewhere to escape when the crush at the bar becaome too much. To top it all - the film was fantastic and remains one of my favourite pieces of cinematic art.
happened: spring 1997?	by: Nickolas lambrianou
Dear Julie, I came back from Israel, found your Hearsay card, opened the website, looks good. I start to do the tour, but each time I click on a sound source, it says 'This is not a Real Audio document'. What must I do to hear my and their voices? I'll try to come by the ICA this weekend. Tell me about the opening, Michael michaelkustow@compuserve.com
happened: June 11 1999	by: Michael Kustow
noise contextualizing talks... it happened twice. the first time was a talk given by i/o/d about their latest project, which was interrupted by Rachel Green and Lisa Haskel to talk about their project, Radio Deep Europe. This was a few days after the war in Kosovo started. Outside, during the whole talk, we could hear the overwhelming noise of helicopters roving around, as a demonstration against the war was going on in whitehall. it was as if the war was here, a very strange feeling. the second time was in may, when artist Kate Tierney and Psycho Acousticioan Chris Plack presented their project, Statics, which consists of a research on how to visualize noise. During the whole duration of the talk, some people in the street were loading a truck with some heavy material, which greatly affected the image on the screen!
happened: March and May 1999	by: Benjamin Weil
i was wandering around st. james park around 1 in the morning with friends who had taken lsd. we ended up in front of the ica. oddly, a group of their friends suddenly appeared from no where. everyone sat done in front of the main doors and smoked pot. i thought it was such a pity that the ica was closed because i really wanted to check out the art (i was visiting from america). after everyone got high we left.
happened: mid-december 1995	by: chris perez
I remember the bookshop as a place of worship, 1990-93 I remember seeing the Boo Radleys when they were obscure. Only a handful of people in the audience, Martin's guitar broke, it was such a shame. I remember thinking how much you've gotta believe in what you do, 1990. I remember getting pissed with Dave and Steve in the bar while Scanner played us some tunes, 1996. I remember Sarah Lucas' fully plumbed toilet in the middle of the gallery room and sneering, 1997.
happened: Unknown	by: Anonymous
first time i ever went to the ICA properly, to attend something, not just use the bathroom, was when they held a spanner convention/talk about SM sex. I met someone named Q Love and since that time he has asked me to marry him a few times and also turned into a born again pentecostal christian...the second time i ever went to the ICA, Q was there again, but this time it was for a discussion about censorship and the arts. it was prior to a ron athey show. after the talk Q and I went for cake, but the cafe we ate at isn't there anymore...then i went back to see ron athey's show - afterwards we all went back to my flat and partied until ron and his crew had to get ready to perform at fist. while at my house ron and i realised that we used to know each other back home in LA when we were teenagers...
happened: years ago...	by: cherie matrix
Having a f**king hard time getting in to the damn place.
happened: All the bloody time	by: annoyed from North London
i've never been to the ICA, but from the descriptions i've seen here i should some day.
happened: sometime in the future	by: isobel black
I went to see Ralph Ralph in the 'summit' with a great friend of mine, it was my first time It was really great fun as I'd never experienced that kind of performance before. Later I saw some lift theatre work there which was really powerful, It was performance art type of stuff which I'd never seen before as I come from Merstham in Surrey. One time I took a Dutch bloke who was working in the city there to watch some British animation he was really gob smacked.
happened: 87,91,96	by: Marisa Scott
Anya Gallaccio's temper tantrum of roses
happened: three years ago?	by: Anonymous
My experience of the ICA is that it is generally a pain in the arse to get in to. I'm all for private companies getting involved with art, and have no problems with paying for my culture, but the system of entering the ICA when there is a show on is ridicuous. Why make your public bar area a paying zone. it's tossy and unnecessary. Sort it out.
happened: All the bloody time	by: Christopher Biggins
The worst thing about the ICA is that I've never got off with anyone here!
happened: Unknown	by: Anonymous
Coming from Paris for a Saturday's in London, thats my first visit to ICA . . .and a real great one. Never heard about the place before this morning at the WhitchapleGallery. (Thanks for the girl of the bookshop ). This art place is real Londonian one; full of young people, each more beautiful than the others, whilst the of McQueen, you are at the sametime in New York, London and in Paris(with his bagage photographies). The French institution should take example on the ICA, more dynamism, more fun and "cool attitude" . . .I'm a London lover, ICA lover
happened: 06.02.99	by: GAUTHIER Julie
I remember the ICA being absolute shit. Everytime that I have been here. I have perservered in the vain hope of being present on a night when something good happens, but I believe I have more chance of winning the lottery jackpot 100 times in a row. My only reason for continuing to visit the ICA is the hope that I might one day see the shithole burnt to the ground
happened: 1996-1999	by: Anonymous
After chatting to a guy on a late train back to rural kent (he turned out to be an ICA projectionist) I tried the venue on his recommendation. As a closet gay it was the first venue I came across which portrayed the divents of gay culture and was instrumental to my awakening sexuality. Getting on a train from the ica to a very early Docklands to see Les Furac dels Bans * (Spannish group involving scaffolding units, flour, blood, water) * spelling means rats from the sewer. I think
happened: early 80's	by: Mark Roelofsen
I am a black mail, a/a 38, attending the ICA to enjoy events and seeing (not meeting people)that are outside of my everyday experience. I attended an event where lesbians discussed the way in which they have to deny their orientation least this made their art less commercially sought after. I sat in a room of persons (mainly female, mainly lesbian) discussing their issues. I enjoyed being an "outsider", other than I usually find (by virtue of race), experiencing others expressing their agenda. Only, I believe, in the ICA could I be allowed to experience this.
happened: I estimate 97	by: Anonymous
visiting the Laurie Anderson retrospective show as part of a NYC season in 1983, not realising you had to pay an entry fee and then spending months avoiding the staff at the box office in case they recognised me. the riot after Aussie post electronic band SPK were refused a license to perform with fire in the ICA theatre and watching crowds wreck the bookshop, leaflets took to the air and bodies scattered everywhere. watching the ICA stage devoured by Einsturzende Neubauten and my heart beating as fast as a bullet as broken glass shuffled its merry way across the crowd, Genesis P Orridge shouted panic messages through a megaphone, the tallest people in the world gathered around me and I seem to shrink and shrink. watching the Scottish anti rock band Jesus and Mary Chain play one of their first ever shows and an almost two hour wait for a 20 minute shambolic live set to an audience heavily outweighed by ugly nylon suits, cheque book in hand, ear plugs even closer. the day the upper galleries closed because the tall glass container as part of Helen Chadwicks installation had apparently been knocked over - it had contained the waste products and rotting vegetation of recent weeks in a fermenting bubbling tower, the stench from the box office was unbearable. having to turn people away from early Electronic Lounge events because their hair was too long - women were allowed in but men with centre parted long hair were denied access unless they carried a particular packet of sweets with them. Oh the wonders of running a club space ! marvelling as a particularly recognisable figure of fashion fell over her dangerously high heels, knocked into a very familiar and successful english composer and knocked him flying across the gallery floor, his spectacles launched in slow motion from his bald head. eating dinner with the late film maker derek jarman in the ICA cafe and trying not to be unsettled as particles of food stuck galantly to his chin and cheek as the food was rapidly devoured. being constantly amazed at the BeSuited men who still appear in droves at any European art film that contain explicite nudity and sex and rush out of the cinema as the credits just kick in at the end, back to their comfy homes and apologise for working late at the office. wondering if I'll ever see a performance art show where someone DID NOT remove all of their clothes! watching the whole of Jan Fabre's Power of Theatrical Madness for a solid eight hours without once leaving my seat.
happened: Unknown	by: robin rimbaud - Scanner