Whether it be adult contemporary, gypsy hip hop (or gyp hop), avant-rock or blues-country, Garden Music has something for you. Sit down for a picnic and watch The (dead boring) Audreys, then get up and dance on the lawn when Unkle Ho provides the beats. It is an eclectic selection of bands they’ve chosen, but I suppose it has a rounded appeal between grey hairs and toddlers, though maybe Justine Clarke should have been added to the bill just to push somethingforeveryone to the extreme.Dan Sultan is a blues man about to release his second album, he is a much acclaimed singer and was part of Black Arm Band (Sydney Festival 2008) performing alongside the likes of Archie Roach and Jimmie Little. Unkle Ho is Kaho Cheung from The Herd’s solo project, mixing bounce and flavours of Romany into his gyp hop. The Audreys are Adelaidians who toe the roots/country line down the middle of the road, and Bridezilla are the very young Sydney band straight outta Newtown Performing Arts School, who were hand picked by Nick Cave for All Tomorrows Parties earlier this year and are fresh off a US tour with The Drones.If the sun is shining, it will be a nice day to take in the fresh air and cut a (picnic) rug.https://youtube.com/watch?v=PjAxF7evIFg
The Devoted Few, stalwarts of Sydney’ music scene, complete with the unmistakable flame red hair of Ben Fletcher, are teaming up with Sherlock’s Daughter on a east coast tour of ‘Straya. Not so long ago The Devoted Few released their third album Baby You’re A Vampire, following up from their very well received Schematic Track. Baby You’re a Vampire was mixed by Jacquire King (Modest Mouse, Kings Of Leon) in Nashville USA, a big pop album full of melodic rock, sometimes derivative of Arcade Fire (see the acoustic guitar driven Frosty Furnaces with it’s rolling drums straight out of No Cars Go), but The DF do put on a good live show with a large group of gifted musicians. The buzziest of buzz bands at the moment, Sherlock’s Daughter just released their debut EP, produced by Jono Ma from Lost Valentinos. Sherlocks’ deserve the hype, as they are ignoring the status quo that has been prevalent in a lot of Aus music of late; instead playing droney, energetic and impassioned rock, sometimes trancing out live for 10 minutes at a time â€" territory that many bands would fear. They have been the golden children of Sydney lately, supporting School Of Seven Bells, playing Laneway Festival and generally whipping up hype like meringue.The bands are playing two nights at the much loved Surry Hills watering hole The Hopetoun, so try to make it to one of them, or both if you are rabid.https://youtube.com/watch?v=FOnOSXe_lSQ
Bicycles are the wonder ingredient that make any activity rate higher on the Fun Scale. Need to buy milk? Ride down to the shops! Need to visit your grandma? Ride to her place! Need to break up with your partner? Ride away fast!Where to from here? is a four-hour celebration of the bicycle's talent for sprucing up our quality of life, featuring the collective visions of Sydney's creative brethren. Centre stage for the evening will be Spoke and Spool, a new fashion label by textile wunderkinds Alia Parker and Laura Pike, whose gregarious threads will be all over you when next you go a-wheel peddling.Sartorial cycles aside, there's futurism and utopia abounding throughout the evening, including Sydney power poppers Happenstance, NOW now curator Monika Brooks and formalist wizard Tully Arnot. It'll be more fun than sticking the ace of hearts in your spokes!Video from The Lady is the Boss (1983)https://youtube.com/watch?v=qve-THEDTs0
Jack Black may have already rocked a classroom, but Musication is all about getting schooled in music, Sydney style. The brainchild of some talented local lasses, Musication is gathering together the newest, hottest (literally, see for yourself!) musical talent for one educational evening at the Gaelic Theatre. The line up thus far sees Sierra Montana joined by The Affairs and Ranger Spacey. Sierra Montana already have a Sex & The City advert to their name, while 2009 has seen The Affairs and Ranger Spacey take on the local music scene with a debut single and EP respectively. At least one surprise guest is also on the cards; enticingly promoted as a ‘true Sydney music scene favourite.’ For up to the minute details, join the Musication Facebook page, or simply rock up to expand your musicological education.https://youtube.com/watch?v=do5lQRTXIIU https://youtube.com/watch?v=pMaQcN6zlVA
Remix masters and synchronised dance machines Metronomy have expanded from a 3 piece to 4 since they graced our shores in January, wowing audiences with their candy-pop meets quirky-dance electro for the Sydney Festival.You may remember late last year their hits Hearbreaker and Thing For Me being a staple at any party or club with off-centre faux-fem vocals over the top of cheesey slap bass bounce. They have a new EP coming out late September entitled Not Made For Love which has new tracks and remixes that we should hear when they are back here for the Parklife festival and a smattering of club shows on the side.Since the departure of lanky bass man Gabriel Stebbing (who will be missed for his campy charismatic style) the lineup has incorporated more live instrumentation (including live drums) and less loops; a more dynamic ship for the falsetto croon and songs of main man Joseph Mount. They were really impressive in January and hopefully with the addition of new members and maybe some new dance moves they will be just as much fun. Opening is Danimals, a side project of one of the members of Sydney band Sherlock’s Daughter and Sleater Brockman.Radio Ladio - 2009 version
Catching the Northern Line, getting drunk on 99p White Lightening cider, looking for a girlfriend only to discover “all the girls I loved at school are already pushing pramsâ€.If anyone can paint a fine picture of growing up in London, it’s sharp-tongued 23 year-old Jamie T. Despite being criticized for being part of the same ‘I’m a rich kid pretending to be poor’ gang as private school kids Lily Allen and Luke from The Kooks, Jamie T might not be completely from the wrong side of the tracks, but his cheeky indie-rap sums up the darker truths of young life in London to an, um, “Tâ€, with a nice swish of political references to boot.Today’s young Billy Bragg brings his London lingo and lively indie ska to Sydney’s shores with his band The Pacemakers this week. Come dance a mosh-jig to the ironic pirate shanty Dance of the Young Professionals and indie dance floor hits Chaka Demus and Sticks and Stones all from his new UK number one album Kings and Queens.https://youtube.com/watch?v=Dwh0Wn5vVwE
The Scare have been somewhat transient and homeless in Australia. Since leaving their native Sunshine Coast in Queensland, they have recorded a debut that was largely overlooked in Australia but landed them festival spots and good tours in the UK, US and Europe. And all the while they came home to play the occasional club show in dank and dusty rooms. Could Be Bad, the debut single from their second album Oozevoodoo has been the first time that they have graced our airwaves in a big way, receiving Triple J's big thumbs up. The tune is a nice slice of punk with a funked out beaty tinge. We're talking post-punk kinda whiteboy funk, ala The Rapture or Gang Of Four. The new album marks a collaboration with â€" and a first foray into production for â€" Daniel Johns (yes you know who he is) who invited the young bucks up to Newcastle to start pre-production on the album before relocating to a Central Coast studio. Johns has pushed the natural pop edge and jauntiness of the band further, with singer Kiss' angular and pompous vocal style brought to the fore on these more accessible and focused tunes.Their live show usually promises volatile and dysfunctional happenings, but after tours throughout the US, UK and Europe and recent tours of Australia, they will be match fit and seasoned, ready to play their new album to the inner west masses. Jack Ladder and Cabins will open the proceedings.https://youtube.com/watch?v=VmDRDFIZE84
Think about the desert.It is everything that we are not. Immense. Dry. Unyielding. On a geological timescale, the fate of our planet has been caught up in a tug-of-war between the deserts and the oceans since the lava first cooled.Yet, for the corporate world the desert is the source of life; black gold, yellowcake, and a whole ton of dead wood. Why else would a sane person stake a claim in those alien lands?In Strange Attractor, Sue Smith, writer of Bastard Boys and Brides of Christ, focuses in on the remnants of a construction party pinned down in Western Australia's Pilbara region after a destructive cylcone. While they wait for civilisation to return, the workers do their best to ignore the dusty boredom of the desert.Which is just doable, until the night another storm arrives.Image: Olivia Martin-McGuire
In 1948, Laurence Olivier and Vivien Leigh bet a bunch of local actors in a Sydney pub that they could recite Australian poetry as good as any local. To prove it they went to a radio station and recorded Banjo Patterson’s Last Week and Clancy of the Overflow. The recording was marked ‘not for broadcast’ and has, until now, sat in the National Film and Sound Archive gathering dust. On Wednesday evening the dust is coming off and legendary Australian actor Jack Thompson is taking on the Oliviers in a bout of Banjo balladeering in the Mitchell wing of the State Library. This is a serious clash of past and present – kind of momentous I reckon.It’s also the launch of Kathy Leahy’s new book Lords and Larrikins: The Actor’s Role in the Making of Australia. Leahy and Thompson will be on hand to chat about the book, and discuss such topics as why in Australia we still call for control of the public artist.
Gaining a fair bit of hype on the strength of a song called The Storm, Boy & Bear, a relatively fledgling Sydney 4 piece, will release a new single this month, continuing the alliteration with a song called Mexican Mavis. Praise has been running hot on the Unearthed website, with Triple J head honcho Richard Kingsmill commenting, "I think this is brilliant. Simple as that". The band started out as a solo project for Dave Hosking after he abandoned an EP of songs and teamed up with some other likely lads to focus on a more textured approach. B&B (no, not bed and breakfast) owe a decent debt to bands such as Grizzly Bear and Fleet Foxes, with layered harmonic vocals soaked in reverb, and intricate arrangements. Hosking has a nice voice and the band support it well, with simple but melodic instrumentation. I imagine the band will be good live, it would be nice to see all of the members holding down the lovely harmonies they have on record.Special guests on the evening will be Royal Chant and Bangers & Mash.https://youtube.com/watch?v=MH9ifwkPZO4
Fathers and sons: a relationship not often portrayed without sporting paraphernalia nearby. Adapting Simon Carr’s acclaimed memoir about single fatherhood in the shadow of loss, celebrated Australian director Scott Hicks and his leading man Clive Owen offer up a delicate, moving film. In the wake of his wife’s death, sports journalist (so, not entirely leaving the paraphernalia behind) Joe Warr falters at the prospect of raising his 6 year old son Artie (Nicholas McAnulty). After regaining a certain equilibrium, Joe’s ‘Just Say Yes’ mentality is challenged upon the arrival from London of his 14 year old son from a previous marriage, Harry (Rupert Grint lookalike George MacKay). Together the three Warrs navigate the highs and lows of family and fatherhood in a magnificent Australian bush setting. The Boys Are Back makes an interesting companion piece to Michael Winterbottom’s Genova. It is curious to consider how the two directors have taken similar storylines to vastly different aesthetic and thematic ends. Hicks’ film may feel more mainstream and a little episodic, but both eschew sentimentality for a rewarding look at the realities of parenthood. And like Colin Firth, Owen delivers an emotionally intelligent performance, one with a few lashings of his charm that also makes the most of his slightly stilted style. Further contributing to the film’s sophistication is Greig Fraser’s superb cinematography. The talent behind Last Ride and Jane Campion’s Bright Star, Fraser captures idyllic South Australia and the Warr boys with a quiet poetry. Focus pulls are intertwined with luscious landscapes; domesticity and the unwieldy freedom of the bush are tellingly confused.The Boys Are Back may privilege the experience of he single father, but it also engages with the prevailing dominance of motherhood. This results in a deeply resonant film, driven by strong performances and displaying an open affection that is too rarely depicted between fathers and sons.
I have a friend who will claim, every time he sees you, that "the craziest thing happened to me today". This sounds like it could be irritating, but it's not at all — he always has crazier and crazier stories to back it up. While I'm sure that these ridiculous events are not all imagination, a large slice of this pie is his skill for seeing and telling things like no one else I know.Watching the Bougainville Photoplay Project was a bit like that. While academic Dr. Paul Dwyer introduces himself in full suit and credentials, the performance rapidly unfolds into an intimate retelling. Dwyer is unusually honest in blending ethnographic research and a recent history of colonialism with his family's history and personal motivations. While maps and research studies cover the walls, it is his father's slides that the performance revolves around. By offering up his memories and his own body as evidence, alongside his reflections, curiousity and wit, Dwyer presents us with a case study in as complete a form as he can give it. Any gaps in the narrative only serve his case, instilling in the audience a concern that resonates long after leaving the Old Fitz.
A standout talk at last years’ Biennale of Sydney was a confessional rant by visiting artist Ryan Gander. For an hour, Gander charged himself with the task of divulging every lie he had uttered in the course of making and promoting his work. This included admitting that a conceptual series of white cubes filled with various objects, exhibited at several notable venues, were in fact empty. And when realising he had lost the sacred stones used in one his works, Gander simply dug up some bricks in his backyard and shipped them off to be exhibited instead. Interestingly, the more confessions that tumbled from this pathological liar, the more I liked him and lapped up every word he uttered like a suckling babe. The artists exhibiting in Don’t Trust The Artist might not be as insatiable in their assault on audience-trust, but they tango with suspicion, delinquency, conspiracy and the sacrilegious like old pros. Curated by Gertrude Contemporary Art Spaces director Alexie Glass-Kantor, Don’t Trust The Artist is an exhibition that will charm you with its wit and seduce you with its seeming availability, before leaving you scrambling trying to get the wool off your eyes. Image: Jackson Slattery, My Plastic Everything (detail from series), 2008.
The Philly Jays, as they are known to their fans and loved ones â€" and as Sydney-siders you should be one of these â€" have been smashing both stages and crowds to bits in the short time they've been together. To date, they have released one EP which whipped up a mix of punk and soul, garage and pop, with tales of lost love between. Each one of these tunes had the ability to get lodged in your head and punish you with its catchiness. I'm sure you would have heard Going To The Casino or I'm Gonna Kill You, and if you haven't, you've probably been living under water or in a far off snow covered country. Well, if you've been away or have missed out on the Philly Jays, then welcome back, and get along to this show. They put on a blistering monster of a live set. The band even held a National Philly Jays day last month, playing seven shows in one day around Sydney, so they should be well warmed up. The bearded duo of MC Bad Genius and Berkfinger have just put their constitutional juror's stamp on their debut album, the redundantly titled Hope Is For Hopers. It will be interesting to see if they expand much on their usual 2 minute pop blast.The Philly Jays must be intent on showing us Melbourne's fresh talent as they're bringing both 2 piece Kid Sam and Young Heretics up the Hume as supporting acts.https://youtube.com/watch?v=_o2rSLQeSrE
May I have your attention please. If you believe that food should taste good and be produced in a way that doesn't hurt the earth, its critters or your health, then whether you know it or not, you are part of the Slow Food movement. While Australians have been nattering about 'Slow Food' since 1995, Slow Food founder and President Carlo Petrini, has been banging on about it for twenty years. In his first public appearance in Australia, this High Priest of ethical eating will enlighten morally attuned gastronomes with his wisdom on consumption that rests on three simple principles: Good. Clean. Fair. A definite highlight of the Sydney International Food Festival, eager followers and pace-converts can catch a glimpse into why this fellow was listed as one of ’50 People Who Could Save the Planet’ by UK newspaper The Guardian in 2008. Or why Time Magazine crowned him ‘European Hero’ in 2004. Just don’t be disappointed if this green crusader arrives on stage sans cape fashioned from lettuce leaves.
Convicts, early settlers, lesbian covens, rape and vengeance. No, Old Sydney Town hasn’t re-opened its gates, it’s a screening of the long lost 1977 Ozploitation classic Journey Among Women in a remastered 35mm print. With the bulk of the cast stemming from feminist rock band Clitoris, Journey Among Women was a low down and dirty exploitation movie but with an unusual, female empowered, edge.It's hosted by David Stratton with a Q&A from writer/director Tom Cowen and co-star Nell Campbell. Nell Campbell famously went on to play Little Nell in The Rocky Horror Picture Show and David Stratton is a notorious Rocky Horror fan. So we predict he will end the evening by getting all giddy, donning the Frankenfurter fishnets and singing T-T-T-Touch me, I want to feel diiiirty to a baffled and horrified audience. You heard it here first.* Popcorn Taxi regrets to announce that this screening has been cancelled until further notice owing to factors out of their control.https://youtube.com/watch?v=NMb9tguy77U
The desert is a strange, lonely place. Cacti advance. A cat copulates with a coyote. Out there you have too much time to think. Anything is possible. As is nothing.Acclaimed playwright Jose` Rivera (The Motorcycle Diaries), creates a double world in References to Salvador Dali Make Me Hot. One is a dream, the other is real. Although it isn't entirely clear which is which.Gabriela (played with gusto by Olivia Stambouliah) â€" an army wife suffering from a desert relocation â€" stares at the moon and contemplates her husband’s (Stephen Multari) impending return. Wooed by both the moon (Lani John Tupu) and a boy-lover (Arka Das), Gabriela is a woman at sea (but in the desert, if you catch my meaning).Surreally poetic opening and closing scenes flank two relatively straightforward husband and wife in turmoil scenes. It’s an interesting juxtaposition. The cast breathe life into the first and last and it’s exciting to watch. In the centre two, however, the production dips slightly into sentimentality. Where the play changes pace, the production loses momentum and the scenes don’t have the poignancy they might.Nonetheless, References to Salvador Dali Make Me Hot has a strong cast and script and the production design heightens the sense of both the real and the surreal. With a few more runs they may just nail it. We have two double passes to giveaway for References to Salvador Dali Make Me Hot on Tuesday October 6. Just email your details to winners@griffintheatre.com.au wth "Concrete Playground Salvador Giveaway" in the subject line for your chance to win. https://youtube.com/watch?v=nhX8-T626-c
Touted as the first indigenous comedy film, Stone Bros. is an Aboriginal Australian road movie, replete with colourful characters and crazy situations. Writer/director Richard J. Frankland sticks cousins Eddie (Luke Carroll) and Charlie (Leon Burchill) in a busted up old Ford and sends them on a coming-of-age journey from Perth some 500-odd kilometres to their home in Kalgoorlie. In keeping with generic conventions, Eddie and Charlie’s trip is punctuated by increasingly zany occurrences. From hitting a kangaroo, to picking up a mysterious muso (Valentino del Toro), their transvestite cousin (David Page) and gatecrashing a rather explosive wedding, the pair continue to tirelessly track down a sacred stone entrusted to Eddie by their uncle (David Kennedy), which has been given to some hot geologist by another foolish cousin (Heath Bergersen). Meanwhile, Charlie suffers the consequences of doing a runner on his magically gifted girlfriend, all of which culminates in a shamelessly B-movie chase sequence featuring a demonically possessed dog. There are a lot of laughs to be had with Stone Bros. Some are certainly derived from the impressive bag of 187 joints the boys work their way through, but mostly the fun spills over from the great banter between Eddie and Charlie. Culture, colour and creed are all served up as fair game, while ‘The Apology’ is lampooned in a particularly hilarious dream sequence. And in a parody reminiscent of Warwick Thornton’s short Mimi, white-fella Peter Phelps brings down the big house as a prison-guard desperate to find his dreaming. While some of the comedy is a bit brash and silly, Stone Bros. definitely succeeds in using humour to communicate some home truths. The importance of culture and family are well conveyed without any saccharine schlock. And as for the politics, who isn’t going to have a giggle at John Howard’s expense when a gigantic photo of our former PM squishes a museum guard’s cat?We have five double passes to giveaway, just email your details to hello@concreteplayground.com.au with "Stone Bros. giveaway" in the subject line for your chance to win.Stone Bros. Trailer from Australian Film Syndicate on Vimeo.
Arduous employment, paranoia and fear of isolation are universal human experiences. In the grand tradition of social anxiety-steeped science fiction, Moon explores these experiences on a magnified scale: what if your job required you to oversee the mining of space minerals? What if you were completely alone on a space station for three years? What if your paranoia was accurate?The film follows Sam Bell (Sam Rockwell) in the last two weeks of his stint on the Sarang moon base, working for green energy company Lunar Industries. Following a crash in his moon-buggy, Bell awakes back on the base to discover that returning home to his wife and child might not be as straightforward as he’d been led to believe.When a science fiction film is independently produced, intelligent, topical and suspenseful, as this one is, something has to give. In Moon’s case, it’s the character development. In a fifteen-minute time span, the slightly addled Bell we first meet transforms into a broken man, resigned to the seeming inevitability of his demise. However, we can forgive this, or even fail to notice it, as Rockwell manages to drive Bell’s physical and psychic deterioration to a mesmerizing, if slightly excruciating, level.https://youtube.com/watch?v=pIexG8179K8
Sydney’s favourite almost-monthly/sometimes-weekly/often fort-nightly Crunk, Baltimore Club, Baile Funk, Hyphy & Dancehall party Wamp Wamp is back after taking a few months off to rest and refresh. The party features all the regulars (Sleater Brockman, Kato, Jimmy Sing) alongside Mad Decent fave and UK up-and-comer Mumdance on his first ever Australian tour. The fact that the party is going down in one of Sydney’s best kept nightclub secrets Goodgod Small Club only heightens my excitement! Wamp Wamp WHAT IT DO?!
Once Upon a Time in Nazi-Occupied France. From the brilliant and bizarre mind of Quentin Tarantino comes the ultimate revenge fantasy. Like the title’s misspelling suggests, Inglourious Basterds takes no heed of reality, turning the history of World War II on its head and serving up some bloodthirsty justice instead. What if Hitler, Goebbels and the entire Nazi elite were to be wiped out during a trip to the cinema? Doesn’t that sound exactly like Tarantino’s personal brand of revenge? The result is of course an entirely self-indulgent film, but one that is infectiously so. From its 2 ½ hour running time, with its long, long stretches of dialogue, to its delineated chapters â€" each with their own aesthetic style â€" Inglourious Basterds flirts tantalisingly with hubris. This is an auteur’s film; Tarantino even has a character spell out that this is his ‘masterpiece’. And yet his blatant love of cinema elevates the film from an exercise in narcissism to something wonderfully complex and dizzyingly referential. Indeed, an unofficial list of film references found in Inglourious Basterds is impressively long, while Tarantino â€" clearly unable to help himself â€" also released a trailer for the German propaganda film Stolz der Nation (Nation’s Pride) that premieres within his movie. Helping Tarantino bring his intractable fantasy to life is a remarkable cast of characters. Christoph Waltz’s astounding performance as “the Jew Hunter†is worth the price of admission alone, though Melanie Laurent’s revenge-fuelled cinema owner and Michael Fassbender as a British film critic turned commando are similar stand-outs. Brad Pitt’s Lt. Aldo Raine is pure, hilarious caricature, and probably as much fun to watch as it was to create. Inglourious Basterds may have a fairytale opening, and even a Cinderella slipper scene, but this blood stained love letter to cinema shows the Brothers Grimm ain’t got nothing on Tarantino.https://youtube.com/watch?v=X9uVFYuGn3w https://youtube.com/watch?v=B0lTVDyg4us
Sydney’s Sideways Hitchhiker are four young dudes thrashing-out. While relatively new to the scene, they’ve already won over the largely-jaded Sydney music industry and music media, largely because while their tracks are rooted in classic grunge and punk, their sound is more excitable and inspired than apathetic. Here you find four young guys with talent who aren’t afraid to show they mean business. Already, they’ve worked with BJB Studio’s Scott Horscroft (who produced their first demos), written tracks with Julian Hamilton from The Presets, and have had songs played on Triple J and community radio around the country. Want to hear what all the fuss about? They’re launching their new single at SOSUME at QBar, September 4.
Sydney artist Lauren Brincat has been awarded this year’s Helen Lempriere Travelling Arts Scholarship for her work It’s A Long Way To The Top. Brincat, who lives and works in the Inner West has made finalist a number of years, describes her practice as being interested in the crossover between rock ‘n’ roll and art; she is explores this through the motif of the drum kit. It’s A Long Way To The Top is a layered work; it’s myriad of meanings and associations are subtle, and will have you thinking for days.The exhibition of finalists features ten artists and two artists collectives/groups and, as expected, there’s a concentration on video art and the moving image. There’s no one uniting theme, but there’s an underlying edge of humour in the work of Sydney based artists Mitch Cairns and Adam Costenoble. Costenoble’s two-part video work, in which he delves into the absurd armed only with a pair of Speedos and an oversized beach ball, is hilarious. If that’s not your speed, there’s the celebration of fine craftsmanship in Rochelle Haley’s etched mirrors, and Mary MacDougall’s delicately painted glass.
The rapidly expanding cultural phenomenon that is the Yabun Festival is Australia's largest single-day Indigenous festival. Celebrating the very best in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander music and culture, the Yabun Festival is not only a romping all-day party but also one of the most important Aboriginal cultural events on the calendar. This year's musical line-up is jam-packed full of Indigenous idols and a host of emerging talents, with highlights such as headliner Warren H. Williams' unique brand of country music with a twist, barnstorming rock 'n' roll from Mop and the Drop Outs, and even a little of the risque from burlesque performer Constantina Bush. On top of the fine music offered by the festival, Yabun 2013 will feature a variety of cultural programs, such as community panels, information booths, and presentations from highly recognised politicians, academics, and community leaders. The Yabun Festival is also one Australia Day party that you don't have to leave the kids behind for, with arts and craft stalls, 'hands on' games and theatre, and even traditional didgeridoo lessons all a part of the festivities. With 25,000 people expected to turn up to Victoria Park this year, the Yabun Festival promises to be a fascinating remembrance of Australia's Indigenous past and a thrilling exhibition of the very best in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander music and culture today.
From Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty to Thelma and Louise, heroes of American fiction have seen the road as a conduit for freedom. However, when hopeful scientist Andy Brewster (Seth Rogen) leaves New York City with his overbearing mother, Joyce (Barbra Streisand), it's not long before he starts to view the endless miles ahead as a kind of absurd, comedic prison sentence. That's not to say that Andy doesn't hit the highway with the best of intentions. He's about to drive across America, spruiking his prize invention — an all-natural cleaning product so safe you can drink it — when Joyce suddenly and unexpectedly confesses that she still hankers after her first love. That is, the man she dated before marrying Andy's father, who died when Andy was just eight. Secretly locating this lost lover as an executive living in San Francisco, and harbouring a crazy plan for a romantic reunion, Andy invites his mother along on his business trip. The dramatic irony lies in Joyce's naive belief that her son simply wants to spend some time with her. Those accustomed to Rogen's stoner brand of comedy and hilarious depictions of rage might be surprised by his appearance as a socially awkward chemist in this feelgood family comedy directed by Anne Fletcher (The Proposal, 27 Dresses). While certainly innovative and industrious as a scientist, Andy Brewster is a clumsy, unimaginative, uninspiring salesman. Many of the film's funny moments depend on Rogen's controlled portrayal of Andy's ineptness, so at odds with the corporate world in which he is desperate to make an impression. Where Andy is self-absorbed and preoccupied with 'making it', Joyce is caring and interfering to the point of suffocation. The Guilt Trip's central concern is the development of their relationship. Rogen plays a suitably restrained, emasculated Andy to Streisand's eccentric, flapping, verbose Joyce. The contrast means that Streisand can occasionally come across as overstated. This is not helped by the tendency of Dan Fogelman's script to settle on the obvious rather than aspire to the subtle and the inclusion of a few rather formulaic and unconvincing turns in the storyline. That said, Rogen and Streisand share a natural, comfortable-feeling chemistry, which enables some genuinely sweet moments and keeps The Guilt Trip moving along at an engaging pace.
Craig Davidson is one short-story writer in hot demand. His Rust and Bone collection, published in 2005, is about to be released as a feature film starring Marion Cotillard, but before that happens, a separate adaptation by award-winning Australian playwright Caleb Lewis is on stage now as part of the Griffin Independent season. Davidson's main theme is masculinity — so much so that he once went on a 16-week steroid cycle for research. He writes in the kind of rough, robust language that has earned comparisons to Chuck Palahniuk, but with less of that 'I have a blockbuster movie playing in my head' vibe. You get a lot of time to appreciate the language — his mingled with Lewis's — in this production of Rust and Bone, which has its three male characters narrate their stories of when their lives brushed with death. The first we meet is Ben (Wade Briggs), a womanising Sea World trainer forced into reflection after a stunt with a killer whale goes wrong. Alongside him, but not in his world, is James (Renato Musolino), a man it's hard to like, given he spends most of his time training pit bull terriers for dog fighting. When he has a humiliating appointment with an infertility specialist, gladness washes over the audience, and it's cruelly poetic that he carries a "diaper bag packed with narcotics, needles, and gauze". Lastly, there's Eddie (Sam Smith), a boxer with a heart of gold who's about to, fleetingly, feel what it's like to have a family. The three stories of Rust and Bone unfold simultaneously, with each man sharing a few lines before the action switches to the next. Unfortunately, I had trouble following all three stories. And before you yell "YouTube generation", let me finish. Aside from the first passage of monologue from Ben, the script doesn't let you spend a substantial amount of time with any character uninterrupted. When James and Eddie started talking, I was still listening to Ben, and that pattern continued. There's also very little of the sort of overlapping, of both language and events, that builds so much tension into something like the classic Speaking in Tongues. To me, this was a problem of the script, but it was not helped by the delivery, which had a samey tenseness throughout when light and shade was longed for. What lacks in the speech, however, is made up for in movement. Rust and Bone has exceptional choreography, which allows the performers to transform into minor characters in the other men's lives, and then with one sudden movement, shift cleanly back into the world of their main character. It's incredibly fluid and precise. Rust and Bone is a gentle exploration of tough ground and contains some powerful imagery of how men relate to corporeality and violence. But, like its concrete set and man-palette costumes, it's ultimately a bit grey.
It's common knowledge that having your music feature in a Tarantino movie is as good a seal of approval as winning a whole bunch of miniature phonographs (sorry Adele). But what about when cinema's most sonically discerning director decides you're so cool as to warrant on-screen visibility? Of course, it helps that The 5.6.7.8's look great with their shoes off, but there's no denying that they're also the most bad-ass all-girl Japanese surf-rock trio around. Before appearing in Kill Bill Vol. 1 they sung their songs mostly in Japanese and were a bit hit on the Tokyo urban clothing store circuit. That's where Tarantino discovered them on his way to an airport, offering the clerk double the retail price to purchase the CD. Now Sachiko, Yoshiko, and Akiko's savage take on American rock 'n' roll is synonymous with the Tokyo danger-surf and garage babe-rock scenes. Or what you'd imagine those to be like anyway. This is a rare chance to see the ladies perform at Oxford Art Factory alongside the equally era-defying La Mancha Negra and Mother & Son. https://youtube.com/watch?v=TIKORxPeFq8
Calling all Rastafarians. Come one, come all in celebration of reggae king, Bob Marley's, birthday. To mark the occasion, Queenie's is hosting a Jamaican feast complete with frozen drink specials and enough jerk to please the famed singer-songwriter himself. A one-off four course meal, complete with dishes named in pun-style like 'Cheer Up Cucumber', 'Shrimp Shake Down Party' and 'Stir It Up Stew', will take centre stage. Lest we make it obvious that Marley's hits will provide the Rasta soundtrack all night long. The dinner will be hosted on Wednesday, 6 February and tickets are $40 per person. This includes aforementioned four course meal, including starters, snacks, mains and desserts. For more information on Bob Marley’s Birthday at Queenie’s or to make a booking, email bookings@queenies.com.au or call 02 9212 3035.
Initiated by Sydney Institute students and presented by A Series of Fortunate Events, Bizarre Bazaar has a cult following of style-conscious Sydneysiders. The twilight fashion market reclaims a Sydney laneway (or, on colder occasions, an indoor space) on odd Thursday eves to showcase the quirky garments and new collections of numerous local designers. The next Bizarre Bazaar will be held in Angel Place as part of Art & About 2012. A vehicular influence will be on show with the addition of food from Eat Art Truck and a Guerilla Gigs-fuelled Little Napier performance also taking place on the back of a truck. Read our handpicked list of the 10 best things to see and do at Art & About here.
Shunning the usual sci-fi stereotypes of aliens and laser guns in favour of an emotional journey that is as powerful and thought provoking as it is really quite horrifying, William Eubank's debut feature Love is an opus on a celestial scale. Orbiting Earth in a one-man space station, astronaut Lee Miller (Gunner Wright) loses contact with Houston, quickly and painfully becoming all too aware of what it is to be truly alone. As time passes, life support systems begin to fade, and the loneliest man in the known universe has to battle to maintain his sanity. The film, led by a truly engaging score provided by Angels and Airwaves, asks the question, is a life without someone to share it with really a life at all? With interviews and sequences from across history popping up throughout the movie, it can be easy to lose track of what is actually going on, meaning that to really get the best out of this picture you have to be prepared to think. If you can handle that, then you're in for a ride that'll paint an immersive and highly evolved picture of resilience in the human condition, one that will leave you in thoughtful silence as you leave the theatre. Four years in the making, the project appeared from the ashes of another's failure — namely, Tom DeLonge's ill-fated idea of creating a music video for each track on one of Angels and Airwaves' albums, an idea that was abandoned because the videos just weren't interesting enough. Produced on a miniscule budget (the space station was actually built in the driveway of the director's parents), Love is an impressive feat. With little to no character interaction throughout, Miller's surroundings become a secondary character themselves, with every flashing light and shining white surface becoming an ever shifting, breathing wall in a claustrophobic prison. Love is a movie with a striking message that really needed to be delivered, but on the whole it fails to perform its purpose. Visually striking and painstakingly crafted, it is a credit to all involved, but really it's just like a Russian Doll — filled with many layers and surprises but ultimately empty. https://youtube.com/watch?v=YiYmAixzpMg
If you are fashion-focused or innately sartorially splendid, chances are you have trawled though, a little longingly, webpages devoted to street style. The allure of these portraits is partly due to the artful arrangement of clothes the wearer is rocking, and partly, I’m sure, the fascinating streetscape beyond the fashionable finery. When you think about it, there is little that wouldn't look rockstar against a setting of cobblestones, cafes and kerbside bicycles. The scene beyond the subject hints at their story in a mid-moment snatch of someone else's daily life and, as such, the place itself becomes a part of the character. The most delicious of these fashion-focused streetscapes must be Paris. And for the most enchanting portraits of Paris as indeed subject and setting, you must go to see the Eugene Atget: Old Paris exhibition. Touted as the founder of photo-documentary, Atget tirelessly trawled the streets of Paris during the early 20th century and created some 30,000 prints. It was a time of change for Paris as the modernisation program took place and it is this collection of Atget’s old Paris that showcases his eye for the beauty, melancholy and the ephemerality of the old city. Here, the streets are celebrated: laneways are lingered on and Atget creates often surreal compositions of archways and sculptured stairways. There are hints of people and events – a scattering of garbage or a smudge of a fellow’s shadow – but Atget’s streets are mostly unpopulated, and there is something equally calming and unnerving about that. Paris is a place fuelled so dreamily by myth and romance it is near impossible to separate it from its cliched self, but here Atget shows us a city which is at times lost and decaying, other times jubilant and delightful, yet all the while familiar. When he knew a place was marked for destruction, Atget would note the address and date on the back of the print, preserving the building’s memory in anticipation of its death. (Trivia: look out for the not-yet famous photographer Jacques-Henri Lartigue, captured by Atget in his street-style glory.) It is the first time a major collection of Atget's work has been showcased in Australia, and as such, expect crowds and chatter on the weekend. If you can, drop in midweek and languorously while away the time in the ever-mysterious, magical city of Paris. Image: Shop sign au Remouleur on the corner of the rue des Nonnains-d'Hyeres and rue de I'Hotel-de-Ville, 4th arrondissement July 1899
Two videos. On one screen, a beatboxer is in a studio. On the other, a break dancer, surrounded by concrete and graffiti. She’s responding to the sounds of the beatboxer. It starts slowly with a stretch of the neck and a flick of the foot. Gradually, out of the beatboxer’s scattered clicks, a full rhythm emerges, and suddenly they’re both going nuts, the dancer falling upwards and sliding across cardboard, in a performance that is disconnected by space and time, but united by music and movement. This is video artist Shaun Gladwell’s latest piece for the Art Gallery of NSW, and it’s called Broken Dance (Beatboxed). The artist is known for his videos of the body in motion in vast urban spaces. Here, by showing two videos simultaneously, the artist synchronises two disparate times and places. The videos play opposite each other — you can only watch them both peripherally, which emphasises the disconnect. The result is a work that is much more than the sum of its parts. It's a flat-out great piece of conceptual art. Simple but not simplistic, with enough layers of complexity to save it from gimmickry. The slow moments of quiet, where the beatboxer is swilling water and the dancer is pacing, make the hectic ones so much sweeter — you're just hanging out for these amazing performers to really crank it out. Perhaps the best thing about this work is people’s response to it — I saw people smiling to themselves in the big dark room, really engaging with it. Make sure you stick around; there are multiple videos to immerse yourself in, as well as a talk by the artist on Saturday, September 1 at 1pm.
Keen to discover some rad indie musicians but not to shuffle around a dark theatre trying not to slop your Carlton on your new oxfords? Well save your cash for some tastier libations, because summer’s best pop-up venue/bar/BBQ is bringing local music out of the dark and in to the dappled sunlight of the Seymour Centre Courtyard. Friday nights from 6pm see Sydney’s best emerging live acts take to the outdoor stage for an alfresco showcase of tunes that are new, good and free. Mark 16 November in your calendar for the restless textural riffs of Polar Knights, 7 December for the dreamy folk samplings of Lanterns and 25 January for the sophisticated Italo-funk seductiveness of Donny Benét. Other names you’ll be hearing a lot more frequently in the coming months include Jenny Broke the Window, Chook Race and Atom Bombs. Eats and drinks are available from the pop-up bar and BBQ, and roving performers (including magic by Jackson Aces and Dun Dun drum lessons with Todd Alleyn) will be popping up in between sets. Check the website for the full schedule.
We're not guaranteeing that attempts at a dougie will be more McKayla Maroney than Jenna Bush, but if anything is going to make you pull off at least one d-floor gyration you didn't know you were capable of it's THEESatisfaction. The Seattle-based duo of big hair and bigger rhythms will be touching down on our shores to play Melbourne Festival this October, and will be bringing their immutably groovy live show to Sydney for one gig at Goodgod. Fusing psychedelic femme funk with the time-tested energy of black jazz and soul then folding in a generous serve of smooth rap verses, each of Stasia Irons and Catherine Harris-White's addictive tracks is like a rich, spongy trifle for both your ears and limbs. Get a taste of it from their (self-released) 2012 debut awE NaturalE, then wallow in a big fat slice at Goodgod's Danceteria. https://youtube.com/watch?v=qGWFBt_IPOg
Sculptors from around the world have resumed their annual pilgrimage for Sculpture by the Sea, with a selection of local and international sculpture prettily dividing sea from land along the coast walk between Bondi and Tamarama Beach. Among the fresh in situ sculpture this year Stuart Couzens' matryoshka ('russian doll') presents a satisfying nest of wooden containers within containers within containers, while James Hallberg and René Dybdahl's how close we are is a giant eye of a matching needle outside the Aarhaus Town Hall in Denmark, which blinks a light as people are invited to jump up and pass through the eye of its Australian twin. A sign in front of it says "please do not touch this artwork. Along the walk between Mark's Park and Tamarama Bay Paul Kaptein's and in the endless pauses, there came a sound is a satyr sound recordist carved out of wood, with a huge microphone, headphones, and visibly absent pants. Gillie and Marc Schattner's the travellers have arrived carves out some reciprocal nudity and animal heads, while Dave Mercer's View TM gives the vista towards Clovelly cemetery a branded makeover. Tamarama Beach resumes its obligatory, not unwelcome, theme of giant beach things this year, with Carl Tindall, Carly Buteux, and Grahame Tindall's half-buried sunglasses *lost in the glare*, an oversized oversize Tonka truck, and Adam Hill and Will Coles' really bins last seen on Macquarie Street in the Aboriginal Art Prize Best in show plaudits were pointed at US sculptor Peter Lundberg, who won the Balnaves Foundation Sculpture prize for his Barrell Roll. His win was not from lack of competition. Competitors were well suited to their surroundings, such as the pleasing cacophony of Cave Urban's multiple, wooden wind-chime piece mengenang (memory) or its nearby contemplative companion in Stephen Marr's camouflage piece the optimist. Image: Stephen Marr's the optimist.
The Iranian Film Festival Australia is returning for its second year and aims to showcase the best in modern Iranian cinema. Given the worthy and attention-grabbing cinema emerging from within that country's not so supportive conditions lately — including Oscar-winning A Separation, the defiant This Is Not a Film, and edgy Secret Cinema feature Circumstance — this is an exciting festival to catch. This year's opening night film, Ali Mosaffa's The Last Step, ponders the heartbreak of lost love. Other stunning films that will be showcased include the award-winning Facing Mirrors, a movie about challenging social expectations that tells the story of transgender Adineh, who crosses paths with Rana, a young mother working as a taxi driver while her husband is in jail. The Iranian Film Festival also offers discussions and seminars as well as a long list of films that span the genres. The films feature directors and actors who are both fresh to the film industry and established professionals. Immerse yourself in Iranian film and culture for this four-day festival.
Feel like getting psyched, getting married and going home single? Jenevieve Chang has a set of low-commitment nuptials lined up for you at Marrickville Festival. Pop Up Bride aims to follow the aesthetic of the matchmaking Shanghai Marriage Market, photographing festival goers around Marrickville in the lead up to a 5pm town-hall ceremony. Wedding guests are promised cake, celebration and the chance to walk away spouse free. (Unless, of course, you walked in with one.) This spontaneous show of intimacy has popped up once already at TINA this year as a performance exploring family and arranged marriages. For your spot on the guest list hit up the eventbrite page or drop in your red envelope contribution at the door.
There's a great freedom to doing Hamlet, since you know that everyone has already seen it. Or at least, everyone who's likely to see it has seen it. It means that you have real licence to get creative, knowing that audiences will be making meaning with ingredients beyond just those that appear on this one stage. Belvoir's new production of Hamlet, directed by adaptations whizz Simon Stone (Miss Julie, Death of a Salesman, etc), grabs this opportunity with gusto and goes on to reach some quite unexpected highs. Shakespeare's words are preserved, but plenty is cut out, including the fairly loved characters of Horatio, the company of players, the sentries who first spy Hamlet's father's ghost and either Rosencrantz or Guildenstern (ie, there's only one amalgam of the two). And as much as these are some of the most fun characters, you know what? You don't really miss them. After all, they're only away this once. The guiding principle for Stone and his team was that the audience should not miss a single important moment because their attention was lost by some meandering verse. To this end, they've also focused on vivid characterisation, which is ultimately what makes the production so compulsively watchable and surprisingly impactful. On the one hand it's more two-dimensional; on the other, it makes clear elements of the tale that were not so apparent before. Toby Schmitz is a striking Prince of Denmark. Although his performance will be a level too intense and histrionic for some, it's also amazingly committed and completely without vanity. His pain and twisted anger are ever near the surface, and it's never more evident than in his behaviour toward Ophelia (Emily Barclay, always wonderful). Stone brings out the extent to which Hamlet's disgust at his mother, Gertrude (Robyn Nevin) — for running into the arms of his recently departed father's brother, Polonius (John Gaden) — makes him a terrible misogynist towards every woman, his dear Ophelia included. For what may be the first time, you understand how the poor lass was so utterly driven to madness. Barclay's scenes with her father, — Laertes (Greg Stone), a prattling, obsequious but loveable man — further this effect. Each one is a beautiful knockout, in its own way. Some of the bold choices in this production work; others don't. The impact of maxi-minimalist sets like this is starting to fade, surely. Like a great dessert at the finale of a meal, however, the clincher for this production of Hamlet is the ending, which ensured I'd be thinking mainly of its sweet conjurations all the way home. It's very powerful stuff. This may not be the definitive Hamlet, but it's a daring, emotive and impressive one. And you know which is the more interesting to watch. From November 19, Ewen Leslie will replace Toby Schmitz in the role of Hamlet due to scheduling conflicts. Full information at the Belvoir website.
This summer the Enmore and Metro Theatres will host a veritable animal kingdom showdown. Specifically it's bears taking centre stage, one of them with a collective of other animals at the Enmore early next year and four of them all together at the Metro this November. The introductory performance is by Brooklyn quartet Grizzy Bear, who in spite of the more ferocious-sounding moniker make the friendlier tunes of the two bands. Their silvery sound you're probably aware of from their 2009 album Veckatimest if you weren't yet negotiating the pages of Pitchfork when their equally good debut Yellow House came out in 2006. Grizzy Bear have now released their highly anticipated fourth album Shields, a psychedelic blend of tunes that are more accurately described as emotive and intricate rather than obscure and intricate. Hear a bunch of them ahead of their appearance at Harvest and reconsider your elected spirit animal. https://youtube.com/watch?v=tjecYugTbIQ
Art and science worlds collide at the 2012 BrainArt Exhibition, bringing you a free two-day event filled with workshops, live performances, and installations that explore neuroscience and its impact on our day-to-day lives. The exhibition, now in its third year, heavily incorporates social media and technology, with the aim to break the boundaries of the typical physical exhibition and transform the art space into a digital and virtual realm. Works from the BrainArt Awards Virtual Gallery will be on display via iPads and projections, which visitors are encouraged to interact and engage with. Keynote presentations and workshops will also be running across the two days to stimulate your mind. You can head along to an ink pressing workshop which will teach you about your brain’s creativity and pleasures as well as its link to depression, or join Billy Blue College of Design for the launch of an app to help kids to learn about their emotional lives.
Spring has sprung, and in the spirit of the season of youth, the romantically named Primavera 2012 ('Spring 2012') exhibition has opened at the MCA. The annual exhibition celebrates the creativity of Australia's young artists who are emerging bright-eyed and bleating into the art world. Here, representations of the self are portrayed in place, machine, and increments of time. Time is significant on these intimate journeys. Teho Ropeyarn's work invites the viewer to share in his painstaking and patient cutting of vinyl to create the sharply graphic prints. With these prints, Ropeyarn tells stories which, having been passed down over generations, are buffed with time. Kate Mitchell's My Life in Nuts is indeed an exercise in patience, the piled-up peanuts representing each day she has been alive. In Moving Out Justine Varga celebrates her final days in her cherished studio space. Here, we capture both the minutes and the minute: subtle changes are introduced in Justine's space, and the viewer can take the time to reflect on their own surroundings. Output = Plotter sees a rabbit plotter scrawl with a biro, with which Benjamin Forster will have you questioning the meaning of drawing, and the needed knowledge in mark-making. Discourse is, too, an automated, print-based work; the luscious tangle of receipt-roll paper featuring an endless stream of philosophical dialogue. Todd McMillan's study of albatrosses is at once haunting and calming, the whirring sound of the 16mm camera's projection a pleasingly mechanical resonance of the sea's waves. The symbolism of the great seabird as the souls of those lost at sea is not lost. If this spring exhibition is indeed a time-based journey of youth, Anastasia Klose is, perhaps, the wayward adolescent; the artist brilliantly re-enacts a period of unemployment in an attempt to recuperate ‘lost time’ and provoke new ideas. Delight in the disco ball, music and the irresistible charm of Klose, for all her spunk and, indeed, funk. Dion Beasley’s whimsical prints are personal, compelling and a reminder of, as the MCA writes on their website, the ‘comic absurdity of life.’ Margaret Atwood wrote that "in the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt." A day at the MCA is often an exercise in deep (and dirty) thought, though at Primavera 2012, the memories one takes of mindfulness, play and delightful absurdity should stick around longer than Atwood's under-fingernail grime. Still from Kate Mitchell's Fall Stack.
This year marks the bicentenary of Russia's 1812 defeat of Napoleon, 70 years of Australia-Russia diplomatic relations, and nine years since the Russian Resurrection Film Festival burst onto theatre screens nationwide. This year the festival is covering a grand scope of contemporary filmmaking, with 25 superb films from a diverse range of genres. Vysotskiy. Thank God I'm Alive, the most successful Russian box-office film of the 2011-2012 season, is a movie about the iconic Soviet musician and poet Vladmir Vysotskiy, the nation's answer to Bob Dylan. Home, a powerful and haunting crime thriller, features a stellar cast and remarkable situations. Siberia Monamour is a look at the sublime power of the landscape that dominates the existence of those who live like the wolves with which they share the wilds. Each film showcased will be an Australian premiere, so you can count on seeing them long before your mates. Image from My Boyfriend Is an Angel. https://youtube.com/watch?v=ZYDyPAyXNXA
I am yet to grasp the unending desire for converting plays/films/books/discographies into musicals. Though there are a few pieces of musical theatre that really excite me, I've sadly found that many are the theatrical equivalent of a mother bird eating and then regurgitating worms into the mouths of her squawking babies. Music as a medium can produce some of the most profound and moving experiences — whether in the nightclub or behind a red curtain — and so it disappoints me when good ideas are digested down into a sugar pop format. I am not a fan of Steven Sater's adaptation of Frank Wedekind's passionate caveat to nineteenth-century German parents and teachers. Sater has rendered down Wedekind's dark, provocative piece into something as confronting as the underwear section of a Target catalogue. Yes, they sing about rape, yes, they sing about masturbation and, yes, there is an abortion, but these issues appear and scatter across the stage quicker than cockroaches. Gone is the harsh act of fourteen-year-old Melchior raping Wendla (now they are little more than a self-aware Romeo and Juliet, cursing their fuddy-duddy elders), and the evolution of Hanschen and Ernst's homosexual affair is replaced instead with some limp wrists, a throw-away expository line and a "daring" kiss. The original Wedekind was banned numerous times throughout its 120 year history and only then it was performed after heavy censoring. I would argue that this melodious conversion happily upholds that tradition. How then has director Geordie Brookman (Baghdad Wedding) dealt with Sater's honeyed libretto? First, he's assembled an attractive cast that'll ensure a boom in opera glass sales amongst peeping toms. Second, he's cast performers who are primarily singers — a mixed bag of a decision, given that there are some long sequences of straight dialogue throughout the play. Third, and most brilliantly, Brookman has had lighting designer Niklas Pajanti create a frozen shower of countless naked light bulbs, all winking in and out of intensity as if communicating the true story of this tragedy via Morse code. Out of the leads, Akos Armont's Moritz Stiefel presents the most unique energy, creating a boy who is always on the verge of explosion from the pressures of his erupting pubescence. In contrast, Andrew Hazzard's Melchior and Clare Bowen's Wendla tend to err on the side of down tempo, giving their performances a very Home and Away feel, rather than that of an off-Broadway musical. Ultimately, Spring Awakening is going to appeal to a wide audience of music and dance lovers, especially those either in their teens or still connected to that adolescent essence. However, anyone anticipating the shock of Wedekind's words would be better off watching Harmony Korine's Ken Park. Image by Brett Boardman https://youtube.com/watch?v=nrc5c5tjWSw
Spoon are a great band. I won't try to hide that I'm a fan. In fact, just then I was visiting their website and got sucked into completing my Spoon collection, buying their first four albums bundled with live videos. Their whole aesthetic and sound oozes a laissez-faire attitude whilst at the same time paying attention to minute detail. They make pop records that are stripped back to bare bones sounds and hooks — they're one of those bands that you think more people should love, that sometimes you have to play to people and they have a slow expression of recognition which turns into a smile and then "oh, I know this song! Yeah I know Spoon". You would play them 'The Underdog', 'I Turn My Camera On', and their biggest hit here in Australia 'The Way We Get By' (bonus points for Britt Daniel's use of the word 'taciturn' — kudos). On their newie Transference they have dropped some of the studio trickery and experimentation in favour of stark production that lets the songs shine through clearly. Check out the clip for single 'Written In Reverse' in which the band perform live; it will give you a nice teaser for their sideshows in May. I'm excited. Tickets go on sale February 16. https://youtube.com/watch?v=18ILdmIOep0
The amazing spell of cinema is such that we are still fascinated by the same stories, albeit sometimes with different actors and set within a slightly different context. Although we all more or less know the ending to most blockbuster films (‘good’ will almost always triumph over ‘evil’, etc), our patience and attention is sustained by our desire to witness the predictable conclusion, to ‘see how it all happens’ (although we of course know that ‘it’ will happen). Film is our cherished and attractive partner, even if it is repetitive and seemingly forgetful. Why is this? Can the history of cinema reveal the history of some twentieth century human behaviour? When we enter that dark room with friends and strangers what are we participating in? Other than the image, what did cinema put in motion? Until July, on various Fridays and Saturdays, Christopher Hartney, lecturer at the Art Gallery of New South Wales, will speak about a range of trends and questions concerning our relationship with film. Some topics of concern include ‘speed’, ‘horrors of technology’, ‘the new violence’, and ‘slapstick in the hall of mirrors’ (accompanied by full-length screenings). If I may politely poach from Stanley Kubrick, “a film is — or should be — more like music than like fiction. It should be a progression of moods and feelings. The theme, what's behind the emotion, the meaning, all that comes later”. This series of lectures looks likely to provide a place for that ‘later’.
Last year Concrete Playgrounders were introduced to NT Live, the ingenious, democratising brainchild of the UK's National Theatre, whereby stage performances are beamed into cinemas around the world. While Australia doesn't quite get the show 'live', we do benefit from having the recorded shows screened for us over a weekend. The Chauvel, Hayden Orpheum, and Dendy Opera Quays have all signed up for NT Live's latest broadcast: the stage adaptation of Terry Pratchett's Nation. Beloved for his Discworld series, Pratchett now maroons an oddly-coupled nineteenth century boy and girl on an island in the wake of a tsunami. The dramatisation sees acclaimed playwright Mark Ravenhill following in the footsteps of previous family-friendly NT shows, including a production of Philip Pullman's best-selling His Dark Materials series. Pratchett's colourful parallel world is brought to exuberant life on stage, where Nation promises to be an enthralling adventure for adults and children alike. https://youtube.com/watch?v=fmG_dDHeDBE
The Brian Jonestown Massacre's latest single boldly repeats the phrase "let's go fucking mental" — and anyone who knows the band, has seen the film DiG!, or has witnessed one of their shows knows they mean it. DiG! is one of the best rockumentaries ever made; it paralleled the trajectories of the BJM and the Dandy Warhols and detailed drug abuse, physical abuse (on stage fisticuffs), BJM head honcho Anton Newcombe's messiah complex, and Dandy's frontman Courtney Taylor-Taylor's inflated ego. You really have to see it. Anton Newcombe left America and his woes behind to record Who Killed Sergeant Pepper? between Iceland and Berlin, delving into some industrial psychedelia and even some gypsy influences, mixing and adding to his patent sound. Call him deranged, call him genius — maybe both at the same time — but there is no questioning that he continues to make really good music. From various reports, recent live shows have been going smoothly without all-in brawls or big mishaps, so get down to the Metro. Over 18's only, but kids, they are doing an AA show at the Factory a few days later. https://youtube.com/watch?v=1UUKbdjokHE
For Joseph Kosuth, poster boy for 1960s Conceptualism, art is effectively L.I.N.G.U.I.S.T.I.C. Or in his own words: "Fundamental to this idea of the arts is the understanding of the linguistic nature of all art propositions". What are the consequences of this and what did it mean for art history? Under Kosuth’s umbrella, the visual component we often think about as being fundamental to art, as well as the emotional expectancy we often carry with us when pondering the turbulent lives of the great masters, are simply obstructions blocking access to the essence of the idea being communicated. In this way, when we look at Kosuth’s work we are confronted with visual art that subverts the very notion of the visual and insists on being read. For some, Kosuth typifies the mechanical and cold humourlessness of conceptual art in his attempt to abstain from all retinal fun ("administrative aesthetics", as Benjamin Buchloh would say), yet for others he holds the torch for Marcel Duchamp’s teachings by placing art in the "service of the mind" and continuing that favourite artist's enterprise, self-reflexivity. So, if we can imagine the walls of time dissolved for a moment, what might Kosuth say in response to Cézanne when he announced "an art which does not have emotion as its basis is not an art"? If you are interested in an answer attend Kosuth’s anticipated and propitious lecture. To reserve a place surf to here.
This is a band that fans would feel need no introduction. If you are a fan --> ticket details over to the right there, but you've probably snapped one up already. If you're not a fan, may I ask, what have you been doing all this time? They started in 1984 and, unlike many a recent touring act who should've packed their amp stacks in already, Dinosaur Jr. (nee Dinosaur) are still goddamn gold as ever. When Johnny said "stay gold" in The Outsiders, ol' Ponyboy J.Mascis must have been listening. Here's the 101. Dinosaur Jr. started out in '84 from the ashes of what is the best named hardcore punk ever, Deep Wound (seriously!). Back then, Dinosaur Jr. consisted of Mascis, Lou Barlow and Murph. There were trials, there were tribulations and a few line-up changes. Murph and Barlow left and then they came back. The planet's equilibrium was once again restored and all is well with the world. If I were writing the voice-over for a movie about them, this is the point where a deep male voice would say "...the world of alternative rock, that is!" Featured prominently in Michael Azerrad's excellent account of the American indie underground scene Our Band Could Be Your Life, Dinosaur Jr. are fuzzed up rock dudes who mix melody and frenzy and are best experienced live, even just to see Mascis' long white wizard locks in the flesh. Supported by Deaf Wish. https://youtube.com/watch?v=TgTJtdn6VjM
Whether you came to Daniel Johnston via a precious dubbed cassette passed on as a young teen, or seeing Kurt Cobain consistently wear a "Hi, How Are You?" T or even by hearing Casper the Friendly Ghost on the Kids soundtrack, he is a much loved figure in an increasingly bigger but once off-kilter circle. The subject of the excellent documentary The Devil and Daniel Johnston (SEE IT!), he is a prolific creator of idiosyncratic tunes and images who have a kind of must-I-use-this-word outsider vision that is part and parcel with his well documented trials with mental illness, often referred to as "cosmic mishaps." While his songs are covered by similarly loved bands such as Yo La Tengo, The Pastels and Mary Lou Lord (all three have covered Speeding Motorcycle, a slow pop classic), and bigger fish such as Tom Waits, it's Johnston's art that is becoming more and more sought after. His work is comprised mostly from illustration of characters of his own making, rooted in a comic book language spoken also by Gary Panter. Both his musical and visual outpourings combined make for the kind of experience that best befits Johnston's process, so it's a rare treat that he will perform at the opening of his upcoming show Dead Lovers Twisted Heart in Sydney. In a kind of Johnston-styled superhero one-two punch, the iconic music journalist and musician Everett True will support. It's as if Monster Children buried a time capsule dream in 1990 and only just now have decided it was time to dig that sucker up. I, for one, am grateful.
