Grammy Awards 2012: in pictures

Adele thanks "doctors who brought my voice back" as she takes home six Grammys.

Record of the year: Adele, "Rolling In The Deep"

Album of the year: Adele, 21

Song of the year: Adele Adkins and Paul Epworth (song writer award), "Rolling In The Deep"

Best new artist: Bon Iver

Best pop solo performance: Adele, "Someone Like You"

Best rock album: Foo Fighters, Wasting Light

Best pop duo: Tony Bennett and Amy Winehouse, "Body and Soul"

Best pop vocal album: Adele, 21

Best rap album: Kanye West, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

Best pop instrumental album: Booker T. Jones, The Road From Memphis

Best dance record: Skrillex, Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites

Best dance/electronica album: Skrillex, Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites

Best traditional pop vocal album: - Tony Bennett & Various Artists, Duets II

Best rock performance: Foo Fighters, "Walk"

Best hard rock/metal performance: Foo Fighters, "White Limo"

Best rock song: Foo Fighters (songwriters), "Walk"

Best alternative music album: Bon Iver, Bon Iver

Best R&N performance: Corinne Bailey Rae, "Is This Love"

Best traditional R&B performance: Cee Lo Green & Melanie Fiona, "Fool for You"

Best R&B song: Cee Lo Green, Melanie Hallim, Jack Splash (songwriters), "Fool for You"

Best R&B album: Chris Brown, F.A.M.E

Best rap performance: Jay-Z & Kanye West, "Otis"

Best rap/sung collaboration: Kanye West, Rihanna, Kid Cudi & Fergie, "All of the Lights"

Best rap song: Jeff Bhasker, Stacy Ferguson, Malik Jones, Warren Trotter & Kanye West (songwriters), "All of the Lights"

Best country solo performance: Taylor Swift, "Mean"

Best country duo/group performance: The Civil Wars, "Barton Hollow"

Best country song: Taylor Swift (songwriter), "Mean"

Best country album: Lady Antebellum, Own The Night

Best new age album: Pat Metheny, What's It All About

Best improvised jazz solo: Chick Corea, "500 Miles High"

Best jazz vocal album: Terri Lyne Carrington & Various Artists, The Mosaic Project

Best jazz instrumental album: Corea, Clarke & White, Forever

Best large jazz ensemble album: Christian McBride Big Band, The Good Feeling

Best gospel/contemporary Christian music performance: Le'Andria Johnson "Jesus"

Best gospel song: Kirk Franklin (songwriter), "Hello Fear"

Best contemporary Christian music song: Laura Story (songwriter), "Blessings"

Best gospel album: Kirk Franklin, Hello Fear

Best contemporary Christian music album: Chris Tomlin, And If Our God Is for Us...

Best Latin pop, rock or urban album: Mana, Drama y Luz

Best regional Mexican or Tejano album: Pepe Aguilar, Bicentenario

Best Banda or Norteno album: Los Tigres Del Norte, Los Tigres Del Norte and Friends

Best tropical Latin album: Cachao, The Last Mambo

Best Americana album: Levon Helm, Ramble at the Ryman

Best bluegrass album: Alison Krauss & Union Station, Paper Airplane

Best blues album: Tedeschi Trucks Band, Revelator

Best folk album: The Civil Wars, Barton Hollow

Best regional roots music album: Rebirth Brass Band, Rebirth of New Orleans

Best reggae album: Stephen Marley, Revelation Pt. 1: The Root of Life

Best world music album: Tinariwen, Tassili

Best children's album: Various Artists, All About Bullies ... Big and Small

Best spoken word album: Betty White, If You Ask Me (And Of Course You Won't)

Best comedy album: Louis C.K., Hilarious

Best musical theatre album: The Book of Mormon

Best short form music video: Adele, "Rolling in the Deep"

Best long form music video: Foo Fighters, "Foo Fighters: Back and Forth"

All photos: Getty Images

Alice Gribbin is a Teaching-Writing Fellow at the Iowa Writers' Workshop. She was formerly the editorial assistant at the New Statesman.

JAMES SPARSHATT/DESIGN PICS/CORBIS
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Skellig Michael is hardly an island - but it's the one I love most

On a rock in the Atlantic, I felt the magic of place.

I am on the vaporetto from Marco Polo Airport to the Venetian island of San Giorgio Maggiore, gulls and terns drifting back and forth over the boat, cormorants on the docks, wings spread to the sun, that late August light, unique to this place, shimmering over the waters. I haven’t been here in 20 years but I remember the greys and silvers of the terns (four species are recorded here, including the black tern, Chlidonias niger, which I find particularly elegant in flight) and the miles of tantalising reed beds, where anything might be hiding – only the city, when it finally emerges from the haze, is more postcard than recollection.

It’s a mental flaw, I suppose. I remember habitation in a formal, almost abstract way, whereas light – which is always unique to place – and flora and fauna are vivid and immediate to my mind. At the same time, every approach by water, anywhere in the world, reminds me of every other, whether it’s the crossing from Staten Island to Manhattan or the ferries that run up the coast of Norway, stopping in at one tiny harbour town after another along the way. So it comes as no great surprise, as I disembark, that I find myself remembering the island landing that I love more than any other, even though I have made that passage only once.

Skellig Michael is hardly an island. A thin needle of rock soaring more than 600 feet high straight out of the Atlantic, seven miles from the Kerry coast, it was once refuge to those contemplative monks whose desire for undisturbed reflection reached such an extreme that they braved the choppy waters common in these parts in simple coracles to settle, in tiny beehive huts, at the windy summit of the Skellig. On the day I made the crossing, most of the charter skippers refused to go out, citing the stormy weather, but I finally managed to persuade one man – whose name really was Murphy – to make the voyage and, though the water was indeed rough, the approach to the island and the hours I spent ashore were nothing short of beatific.

Nobody else was there, apart from two archaeologists who kept to their billet in the one stone house by the quay and the rabbits that had run wild and multiplied after the monks left. Halfway up the needle, I turned oceanwards as a pure light cut through the clouds, illumining the sky and the water so the horizon looked like one of those mysterious sea photographs by Hiroshi Sugimoto.

All through the crossing, gannets had swarmed noisily over the boat in spite of the weather, before dropping back, disappointed, to their colony on Michael’s sister rock, Little Skellig. Up here, however, at the top of the needle, everything was calm, almost silent, and inside the first of the beehive cells it was utterly still. I have no time for gods, as such, but I know that I was touched by something in that place – something around and about me, some kind of ordering principle that, though it needed no deity to give it power, was nevertheless sublime.

Back in Venice, as I changed boats at San Zaccaria, the noise and the crowds and the now golden light on the water could not have offered a greater contrast. Yet what was common to both landings was that quality of unique to this place, the sensation of the specific that makes any location – from gilded Venice to a bare rock, or a post-industrial ruin – magical. As long as we have such places, we have no real need of outside agency: time and place and the fact of being are enough.

Place, first and foremost, is what we all share, living and dead, in our griefs and our visions and our fleeting glory. It is what we should all strive to protect from the blandishments of commerce and the appropriations of agribusiness and other polluting enterprises, not just here, or there, but wherever our ferry boat puts in.

Next week: Felicity Cloake on food

This article first appeared in the 03 September 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Pope of the masses