Friday, December 19

red & yellow

Here are a few photos from the Nanshi Food Mall/Market/Complex in Tianjin. While unlikely to be the place where you can find the best in town of any Tianjin specialty (we were repeatedly told that by our taxi driver as we left the market...), it is a good place to sample many types of food, particularly mahua (a type of twisted donut). Although I'm still not sure about my visit to Tianjin, if you're there, the food could be a highlight...


Wednesday, December 10

dear eloise 亲爱的艾洛伊丝

Dear Eloise's vinyl label is Genjing Records and CD label is Maybe Mars

Dear Eloise are a shoegaze Beijing band, featuring husband and wife, 杨海崧 and 孙霞. I recently stumbled across them online and now I am on a fervent hunt to see if they're still making music in Beijing (...apparently they do not perform live, so that's that). At first I was indulging in the trivial fact that my name is part of their name but after a bit of listening and research, I really do like this band's style. Maybe they're writing to me? Beauty for Strangers (and some mysterious merchandise) will hopefully be waiting for me somewhere on Great Barrier Island when I return home. 


Tuesday, December 2

escape from 798 & the hutong laboratory

In the narrow alleyway between a public bathroom and courtyard residence a person on an electric bicycle beeped at me to move out of his way. Further along, I passed a small store filled with empty water containers and a dairy omitting blaring Chinese opera music from a hidden radio. It was dark. Apart from the intermittent orange light of street lamps, the only other light I had was from my phone. Lost somewhere in a downtown Beijing, I felt an unsettling mixture of frustrated and charmed as I searched for Zajia Lab...

My experience writing about a Beijing art project space and bar called Zajia was surprisingly important in helping me feel closer to this dynamic capital. The piece is up on White Fungus now (pending some grammar fixes)!


Monday, November 24

hello dystopia

My experience of Tianjin was the feeling one might get if she was invited to a grand wedding, turned up the day after thinking she had come on the right day, then left to walk around for two days wondering where everybody went and what actually happened.


Thursday, November 20

interview: nik thompson (44th sunset)

It has been four years since Perth band 44th Sunset first came together. After releasing their EP Boa Constrictor Hat in 2012, which featured the poppy and cleverly bitter "Caesar," the band are now working on a new album, as well as planning an Australian wide tour in 2015. Behind the scenes, 44th have shifted from a major label contract to littleBIGMAN records - a process that involved existential musings and reformation. Following the recent release of "The Hills," here's a bite size Q & A between 44th's Nik Thompson (vocals, guitar) and I.

What is the story behind your name "44th Sunset"? 

"The Little Prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry teaches us that forty-four sunsets in a row can pretty much fix any emotional stress you can have. And I seriously love that book - I have a tattoo from it and everything.

After ending your contract with a major label, what did it take to unwind from your "convoluted state of being”?

First a large transitional period of just re-evaluating the band. The project needed to feel distinctly evolved. Then we had to re-assess how we got things done.

How is this change currently affecting the sound of your upcoming album?

There won’t be as much female vocals in the track now that we’re an all-male group again. The change hasn’t dramatically changed the sound, otherwise. The main difference is that the record is actually really happening.

Lyrically, where do you draw your ideas from?

Mostly the lyrics reference my insecurities in an obscure way, it feels good when you yell them out.

After being a band for four years and with an Australian-wide tour planned for next year, what experiences do you draw on for momentum to keep going?

Memories of other tours drive on the future ones. I/We like touring quite a lot.

A lot of people comment about the engaging experience of watching you live, what do you think happens within you and the band to make it so?

We really like to perform and feel comfortable releasing on stage.  Also, I always take off my shoes - that’s a big deal.

Does the Perth music scene have any characteristics that set it apart from other cities in Australia?

The Perth music scene is surprisingly large for Perth’s population. I guess the main characteristic is often just bands playing to the other bands.

What three things do you recommend for someone to do if he or she is into alternative music and visiting Perth?

Browse Noise Pollution Records. Come to one of our shows. Go to a Love Junkies show.

Friday, October 31

interview: thomasin sleigh & sarah smythe (creators of "old hall gigs")

A gig at Breaker Bay Hall by Richard Robertshawe © 2014
Old Hall Gigs is a wonderful initiative, which I first heard about when my friend Kane Strang mentioned he would be playing at one of their concerts. As their website describes, "Old Hall Gigs was created because we were dreaming of non-rowdy places to listen to our favourite bands. It is a roving series of events taking place in halls around Wellington." 

I sent Thomasin Sleigh and Sarah Smythe (the creators of this initiative) some questions in a quest to understand the inspiration behind this concept. 

Could you briefly describe both of your backgrounds?

Thomasin: I'm a weird venn diagram. I have a background in art history and contemporary art. I've worked in various galleries and write art criticism and commentary about the visual arts. I am also a writer of my own fiction, and published my first novel Ad Lib this year. I now work at DigitalNZ, working to make NZ's digital content easier to find, share, and use. But, most importantly for Old Hall Gigs, Sarah and I met when we were in a band together, St Rupertsberg, I played the drums and Sarah played piano.

 I come from a music background, but have always been interested in other art forms too. I studied classical piano at university but never liked the stuffiness of that world, and so after I finished studying I pretty much stopped playing classical music, and then got into playing in bands. Which is where I was introduced to Thomasin's remarkable drum face (she basically just stares into the distance like she is seeing through walls).

What drew you to creating the "Old Hall Gigs" initiative? Did it come about in reaction to changes in the gig scene or because of your personal backgrounds as musicians? 

It really just came about because we thought that there should be more interesting ways to present gigs. It seemed like there was just this un-imaginative world of gig going that involved over-priced drinks, late starting bands, people talking over the music, and venues where you can't actually see the bands properly. Sofar sounds was a bit of an inspiration, they are a world-wide initiative that puts on gigs in people's living rooms. Old halls in Wellington just seemed very tempting, and we liked the idea of taking each gig to a different hall/ suburb/ community each time. And then because we both like a wide range of art forms we decided to make it a bit of a smorgasbord and have readings, dance, films and art as well as some of our favourite bands playing. 

Do you think the initiative could be part of bigger changes happening in Wellington?

Perhaps...It's always nice to see the city's spaces used in creative ways. The Letting Space project does a great job of matching up visual artists with vacant offices and spaces in Wellington. It's interesting to stage arts events in spaces that are freed from commercial imperatives. Hopefully more people will put on gigs in interesting spaces - it was great to see A Low Hum will be staging a gig at Vogelmorn Hall, so maybe there is something bubbling away...

What draws you to the venues that you choose to run Old Hall Gigs in?

Mostly they are recommendations. When we tell people about the project they say, "Oh, well you definitely have to try such and such..." and then we go off and find an amazing hall hidden somewhere. The size and space of the hall also dictates the kind of activity that happens there, some spaces are great for big, anarchic bands, and some are good for quieter, close listening. Without exception, we've found that every hall has something a bit idiosyncratic about it, like Breaker Bay with it's amazing stage mural, the City of Wellington Pipe Band hall with it's scotch whisky bottle collection, and for our upcoming gig at the Long Hall in Roseneath, the amazing setting on the headland... it's pretty hard not to get enchanted by each one!

What has been a highlight so far (for both you as organisers and the audience)?

Oh, we couldn't pick a favourite! But, the first gig at Vogelmorn hall was really amazing. The hall is just a beautiful, elegant space, and we worked with fantastic writers, and musicians–Glass Vaults played, and there was a big, enthusiastic crowd who came from all over town. All of the gigs have been great, but that first gig really had us excited that we might be onto something.

What does your collaboration with Hue and Cry involve?

We really wanted to work with our friend Chloe Lane, who edits the Hue and Cry journal, because she has such a breadth of knowledge about the literary scene in Wellington (and further afield). She's been really great at recommending writers and putting us in contact with the right people for the different space we've been working in.

Old Hall Gigs' next event is on Saturday, 15th November at Long Hall in Roseneath. For tickets and event details click here (but be super quick about it because spaces are filling up fast)!

Tuesday, October 28

beijing drunk fest

A young boy with a black jacket adorned in endless rows of studs and patches begins to jump wildly as the fast guitar escalates. The people around him respond immediately - a mosh pit explodes within the small space of Dirty Monsters Club. We are two hours into the all day punk festival called Beijing Drunk Fest and the crowd numbers, as well as their energy, are picking up. Above the band, who are clad in black except for the main singer whose rectangle glasses and straight-laced attire set him apart, is a large DMC banner. Different signatures and messages are scrawled across the banner, including “niu bi,” which - as my new friend Xiao Xiao told me - literally means “cow’s vagina.”

The scene before me - aside from the plethora of young Chinese punks and people smoking inside - doesn’t initially seem too unusual. A grunge bar with punk music and cheap beer isn’t exactly culturally original or specific to China. But, after several hours of conversation with various people who sat down with me at the dirty plastic tables outside the venue, there were marked differences that made the experience simultaneously remarkable and tragic.

Travelling to DMC from campus in Wudaokou involved four trains and three transfers then a taxi through a dusty village where stray dogs moved between rubbish piles. Tongzhou, in the south-east of outer Beijing, is far removed from a typical understanding of Beijing - particularly Beijing city. However, a first encounter with this area is deceiving. In the mid-1990s, artists were forced to leave the Old Summer Palace’s creative community in search for cheaper rent - a lot of them found themselves in Tongzhou. It has since grown as vital centre for artists and musicians.

DMC, located across the road from the Beijing Modern School of Music, is a punk venue seemingly made of several sheds wielded together. It is a tiny, dark space with a small bar, floor-high stage and anti-establishment posters and graffiti filling the walls. DMC’s only other room is for the squat toilet, which didn’t appear to flush.

After entering the venue with my friends, Xiao Xiao greeted Li Yang (also known as Spike) with an excited hug, then introduced me to him. Li Yang has shoulder length hair and was casually dressed in a red and black stripped long sleeve top and jeans - however, his story and drive is anything but casual. Li Yang, a vocalist for local band Demerit, along with Ying Chen built and now maintain the punk club DMC; together they have established more than just a punk venue.

DMC is a place where people, who call each other “brother” and “sister,” come together to love punk and share their rage for a government that - in their opinions - “treats its citizens like animals.” It was at this venue where we met a fifteen year old boy who spat and smoked and told us he had run away from home because he was gay. Other new friends desperately talked about plans to eventually earn enough money to leave China. There are few places in Beijing where these kinds of discussions could happen so freely and even at DMC they were taking risks.

But despite the hope and anti-establishment culture created by places like DMC, there remained a cruel reality beyond the dusty walls that enclosed it. As one young man, the same age as me, with an elvish like face and long black hair sadly told me, “when I wake up tomorrow morning, this will all seem like a dream.”