Thursday 9 February 2012

Laugh yourself well!


Tutor Judith Hardy leads a Laughter Yoga group in York

They say laughter is a tonic, so I've popped along to a Laughter Yoga group in York to help locate my feel-good funny bone...



HO, ho, ho! Hee, hee, hee! Ha, ha, ha! The belly laughs fill the room; amplified by the vaulted chamber, they create a cacophony of cackles that any stand-up in a comedy club would welcome.

 But this isn't an open-mic night in a basement bar. We're in a York church hall; there are only ten of us, and we're practising laughter yoga.Our instructor, Judith Hardy, is leading tonight's class. Most people have brought mats or blankets, although there's not much in the way of yoga poses during the one-hour class.

And although there is plenty of laughter, most of it is “fake” released through a series of exercises directed by Judith.

“The body doesn't know the difference between real laughter and fake laughter,” explains Judith, a mum of two from Deighton, just outside York.

That means if we can learn to laugh to order, we can reap the benefits of a good old guffaw.

“It can lower blood pressure and release endorphins, the feel-good hormones,” says Judith. “Researchers at Oxford University found that laughter has an effect on pain relief.”

Laughter yoga was invented in India in 1995. Dr Madan Kataria was researching the benefits of laughter for a journal paper and assembled a group of people together every morning. After two weeks the jokes ran out, but he kept the group going anyway, encouraging them to practise laughing. His hypothesis was proven, that our bodies cannot tell the difference between acted and genuine laughter and that both produce the same “happy chemistry”.

Laughter yoga is now available the world over, and slowly taking off in the UK. “England is about the last country to offer laughter yoga,” says Judith.

Her classes are for both sexes, although the group I attended at St Edward the Confessor's church hall on Tadcaster Road in York was all female.

And you don't need to be light hearted to get the most out of it. One woman I spoke to afterwards told me: “I'm a really serious person.” Minutes earlier, I'd watched her charging round the room pretending to keep a run-away lawn mower under control and making noises to put Macbeth's witches to shame.

Judith says: “You don't need a sense of humour to do laughter yoga. It's not really about yoga, or laughing, it's about breathing.”

At the start of each class, Judith guides participants in a warm-up. We start with a deep Santa-esque “ho, ho, ho” which rumbles straight from our abdomens. The breathing is the same as that used in yoga pranayamic and requires you to push out your abdomen as you let out your laugh and pull it in as you inhale.

It's this inner body work-out that does the magic and mimics the same physiological and psychological responses from a genuine laugh.

So do we really need to learn to laugh? Judith thinks so. Mostly when we laugh, she says, it's only for a few seconds at a time. But to get the real benefits, you need to laugh for about 15 to 20 minutes in one go.

To this end, Judith has regular laughter “work-outs” at home. “My family think it's a bit mad,” she confesses. “So does the dog!”

But it makes her feel great. She says: “In my laughter exercises, it's not spontaneous. I am faking the laughter, but it feels good.”

She became a devotee after attending her first class about a year ago, when she became redundant. “I found laughter yoga at a very stressful time in my life. I was very sceptical about it; I thought it sounded stupid, crazy,” admits

Judith. “But what I learned is you have to get your mind out of the way; get rid of that voice in your head so you can listen to your body.”

At the end of the session, we all lie on the floor, in a flower formation, heads almost touching at the centre. We begin to practise our laughing. Judith tells us to “throw our thoughts” into the centre. I understand what she means. You need to “switch off”; not think about what's in the pack-up for tomorrow's lunch; not worry about that unpaid bill, and certainly ditch any notion of self-consciousness. It is, says Judith, about connecting with the child in us all and re-discovering a sense of playfulness.

So we laugh. Gently at first, but then it builds, a giggle into a chuckle, and then into a real tummy rumbling roar. By the sound of it, some women even get to the hysterical, tears-in-the-eye, stage. For some, it will be genuine (it is rather funny after all, so the giggles can naturally take over). For others it will be forced. Whichever; it doesn't matter. When we all stop, we all feel great.

For first timer Belinda Levy, the class has had a real impact. “I was hoping to have some fun and have a laugh, and I did,” she says. “I feel lighter with a feeling of openness on the inside.”

One thing's for sure, we are all smiling as we walk out into the cold, dark, wintry night.


Judith runs her drop-in laughter yoga session on the last Monday of each month at the St Edward the Confessor church hall, Tadcaster Road, York, from 7pm-8pm, cost £3.



She is also running classes at  Briar House Resources, next to The Healing Clinic, Museum Street, York: Saturday Laughter: 11am-12 noon (cost £20 for four-week course); Laughter Blaster Stress Release Sessions; 30-minute sessions: 12.10-12.40pm, 12.45-1.15pm (£3)


To find out more, email Judith at judithhardy1@btinternet.com, telephone 01904 728342, and visit laughteryoga.org



Thursday 2 February 2012

Beach treasures inspire York jeweller

York jeweller Karen Thomas reflected in one
of her intricate silver swivel pendants
Shells and pebbles from Filey Bay are the inspiration for the latest works by York's Karen Thomas, jeweller of the month at the city's Pyramid Gallery


LONG walks along the North Yorkshire coast with Collie-cross J unearthed genuine treasures for city jeweller Karen Thomas.

For it was during excursions to Filey Bay that she would turn over pebbles and discover shells that would inspire her silver jewellery making back in her tiny garden studio in Heworth.

And it is here, in a bricked garden shed, no more than three-metres square, where you’ll find Karen hard at work, making moulds, soldering silver and turning her designs into beautiful, wearable pieces that are now sold across the UK and in Europe.

The new year has been particularly busy for Karen. She has been chosen as the “Allure jeweller of the month” at York’s Pyramid Gallery on Stonegate, and has been burning the midnight oil to get extra pieces ready for the show.

The honour is even more special because the gallery has just opened a new exhibition, Thirty-30, featuring 30 British jewellers to mark its 30th anniversary in the city.

Karen says she remembers going to the gallery in her student days when it was on Gillygate.

Karen, originally from Dudley, came to York in 1993 to study craft and design at York’s FE college. “As a student, the Pyramid Gallery was somewhere I went to for inspiration. I never expected my work would ever be in the gallery so it is nice that I have done it and am jeweller of the month.”

Visitors to the gallery will see how delicate seashells found on a North Yorkshire beach have been transformed into beautiful earrings, pendants and necklaces.

Her showpiece is a stunning 45-inch venus and pearl necklace, made from silver venus clam shells and off-white pearls.

There are bolder pieces too; featuring large polished “pebbles” of vibrant turquoise, lilac amethyst and deep purple “imperial” jasper, set in chunky silver claws and made into rings, earrings and pendants.

This collection developed from an earlier range featuring pebbles.

“Living in North Yorkshire, I take inspiration from the landscape and its colours. I am particularly drawn to the natural forms of the dramatic North East coastline,” said Karen.

After a spell at college in York, Karen took a degree in jewellery and silversmithing in Birmingham. A job offer to teach in York brought her back North; she began working with another jeweller and later set up on her own.

From a child, Karen was destined to work with her hands. “I always made things,” she said. “I never played with dolls, but always Lego and Plasticine and bits of cardboard.”

Originally she thought about becoming a blacksmith. “But this is better,” she said with a chuckle. “I get to work inside”.

Karen likes a challenge, and sets out to make many of her pieces as versatile as possible. Hence she has a “swivel” range, where pieces on rings and pendants can literally swivel round to reveal a second design.

Karen carries this idea through to necklaces too. She puts extra holes on chains to give the wearer more choice in where it should be fastened. This means a favourite piece can be worn with a variety of necklines.

Then there are her adjustable necklaces and pendants. These feature two pendants, one large, one small, at opposite ends of the chain. They can be worn so either pendant is at the front.

“I don’t want to make something that somebody will just wear once then put in a box,” said Karen. “I want to know people are wearing it.

“I like to know that they can wear a piece somewhere special and feel a bit glam, but also that they can wear it everyday and just liven up an outfit.”

Find out more at karenthomasjewellery. co. uk

To mark Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month in March, Karen is working on a new collection, and 25 per cent from each sale will go to the Ovarian Cancer Research. Details will be on her website soon.


Karen has also made the shortlist for the annual Craft & Design awards; people can vote for her through her website.

Sophie queen of chocs

Sophie Jewett, left, with Maxine
 and their chocolate lollies
“WHAT sort of chocolate do you like – dark, milk or white?” asks Sophie Jewett as she makes me a cafe latte at her new chocolate emporium, York Cocoa House.

Her question makes me freeze. Sophie is one of the city’s top chocolatiers who runs sell-out chocolate workshops and is heading up the first York Chocolate Festival, so I wonder whether to tell the truth – or lie.

You see, I am a Galaxy/Dairy Milk sort of girl, who can eat a family size bar in one sitting.

However, I am tempted to say that only the darkest chocolate will suffice; the more cocoa solids the better; and how I only ever savour one tiny square at a time.

But deception has never been in my make-up.

I come clean.

“Milk,” I say rather sheepishly, feeling as if I’ve just confessed to Jilly Goolden that I prefer Blue Nun to the finest Burgundy.

To my great surprise Sophie breaks into an understanding smile. Turns out, she’s a Galaxy/Dairy Milk sort of gal too, and her new chocolate venture is aimed at people like us.

“As we get older people think we should like the darker stuff more,” says Sophie. “People feel guilty about having something sweet and creamy.

“Well this is where people can come for their chocolate fix – without feeling too guilty.”

Not that you’ll find Sophie selling bars of Galaxy or Dairy Milk from her grand premises on Blake Street (opposite the Assembly Rooms).

On the menu are the usual ranges of coffees, but hot chocolate and teas too as well as a tempting array of home-made treats. There are brownies and cakes that pay homage to the city’s chocolate heritage; chocolate orange cake and KitKat cake.

Also, from this month, savoury dishes will be available – all featuring chocolate. During my visit I sampled some of chef Claire Davies’ works in progress. Her fiery butternut squash soup, laced heavily with aromatic cardamom, is served with giant white chocolate buttons. It looks and sounds crazy, but there is sanity in the culinary combination. “The white chocolate is just cream, cocoa butter and sugar,” explains Sophie, adding that its addition is similar to a spoonful of yoghurt or cream into the curried soup. Indeed, as the chocolate melts into the soup it leaves an oozy, white swirl that adds a smooth creaminess.

Next comes a veggie chilli, complete with shards of dark chocolate on the side and a mini grater. “People can grate the chocolate straight into the dish at the table,” says Sophie.

The Cocoa House also sells Sophie’s handmade chocolates and truffles. “Try this,” says Sophie with a challenging grin. It’s a rich chocolate truffle made with Yorkshire Blue cheese. My instinct is to scrunch my nose in distaste, but the strong flavours of the dark chocolate and ripe cheese are a surprising hit.

“We also make truffles with real ale using York Brewery’s Centurion Ghost and chocolate orange ones with marmalade,” says Sophie.

She runs chocolate-making workshops too. During my visit, I have a go at making a chocolate lollipop. My first surprise is when Sophie hands me a hairdryer. We use this to melt the mass of Belgian milk chocolate buttons piled up in a plastic bowl. It’s a gentle method to “temper” the chocolate, allowing it to get to the correct consistency to mould it into the desired shape. It is right when a ribbon of chocolate dribbled from a wooden spoon leaves a trail, but this trail disappears when you shake the bowl.

To make the lollipops, we take a spoonful of the melted chocolate and ladle it on to a cellophane sheet upon a small tray. I bang the tray a couple of times until the chocolate spreads out to form a nice round shape. Then I place a stick in the middle, twiddling it around so it too is covered in chocolate, and decorate the lollipop with a sprinkling of strawberry swirls and dark chocolate balls.

With the remaining chocolate, I spoon it into a silicon mould. Sophie puts this in the fridge and about ten minutes later, like icecubes, we pop out the results. The chocolates are delightful, a mix of quirky shapes on an afternoon-tea theme featuring mini biscuits, cupcakes and even a teapot.

Sophie began making chocolates as a child growing up on a farm on the Isle of Wight. As a sufferer of Crohn’s disease, a chronic condition that causes inflammation of the gut, she discovered one of the triggers is chocolate. This means she has to limit her intake, although she still has a sweet tooth; she takes three spoonfuls of sugar in her coffee.

Sophie says she learned how to make chocolate by “trial and error” and seeks through her workshops to show people how to make chocolates in an “accessible way” – hence the use of a hairdryer for tempering rather than splaying the chocolate on a marble slap in the traditional way.

But her ambitions stretch further than running a chocolate business in York. In recent years, she has organised various chocolate events for the York food and drink festival, which spurred her on to launch the city’s first Festival of Chocolate, which will run over Easter weekend. The timing couldn’t be better, coinciding with the opening of York’s newest visitor, York’s Sweet Story, this spring.

Sophie says: “We want to get people talking about York’s chocolate heritage and promote York as a chocolate destination.”

And where better to start than with a spot of indulgence at the York Cocoa House?