Of course, the original Persepolis was the ancient capital of Iran, and now stands in ruins, a collection of dilapidated plinths.
So what better than putting the modern Persepolis on a plinth too? Actually, we weren’t sure what to do. Er, like a lot of other plinthers. It’s one of these things that seems like a good idea at the time, but when push comes to shove (not literally we hope) it’s quite hard to work out what to do. And we have no obvious performing talent…
Trouble with arty stuff is that you’re often left wondering what on earth it means. And given that we’re on the plinth at 3am and you’ll be looking at us with you head craned at 45 degrees, all the time wishing you were at home in bed…well, we thought we’d better produce a wee leaflet to explain what we’re up to.
Oh, and of course the other trouble with arty stuff is that we’re not artists, so you will be able to tell us we’re just plain bonkers and not even pretend to be appreciative.
The small shopkeeper should be celebrated: at a time when our high streets are becoming homogenised and many traditional stores are closing, this is a time to cherish your cormer shop. Go hug a shopkeeper today, we say.
Britain is of course a nation of shopkeepers. Things may have changed since the little French man used Adam Smith’s words to such brilliant, scathing effect, but the fact remains that our high streets, towns and villages are very much reflected in the windows of its corner shops. The shopkeeper still holds the heart of the country and the secrets of his customers in hand.
If you really want to assess the state of the nation, stand behind the counter of a small shop for a day. It is a wonderful profession, as it is the flipside of showbusiness – you really do have to put on a show for your customers every day. Everyone should be a shopkeeper for a day. Come by some time – we might even let you have a play behind the counter to see how it feels.