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You are here -> Lifestyle / Think Tank Thursday, 20 November, 2008
PLANETNOTION TELEVISION!
CAMERA-FOLK AND FILM EDITORS WANTED!
Planet Notion is looking for guys and dolls to film and edit features for its new TV channel, PNTV. Accompanying Notion to artist interviews, gigs, fashion shows, festivals and international events, you will be skilled, passionate and full of ideas about how to produce shit-hot video content. Camera-folk will be experienced and ideally have their own equipment, or at least access to equipment, while editors must be able to turn projects around quickly, and with stylistic flare. If you can both film and edit content, we would especially like to hear from you! These casual, unpaid positions would be ideal for those looking to develop their showreels, and to get the chance to travel, film major artists and top events.
 
Please email lucy(at)musichqmedia
(dot)com if you’re interested in getting involved, cheers!
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Pub Dave: 'Smalking' Habits
Pub Dave: 'Smalking' Habits
24/01/2008
Sometimes you have to bite your tongue. Not physically, but mentally. It’s far less bloody and gory, and nobody bites their tongue physically unless they’re really hungry and shoving food down their gullet like their life depends on it. I’ve bitten my tongue both mentally and physically and when I did it physically it hurt like hell. I couldn’t eat any more steak after that, even though it was a real nice bit of sirloin. I reckon smoking should never have been banned though, and I’m not going to bite my tongue on that one. People disagree, and fair enough, but that’s why smokers often complain now in pubs, because they have to go outside. Years of tradition down the drain. Smokers cast outside like social lepers. It isn’t really on. Our grandparents could smoke in pubs; theirs before them, and so on through to the middle ages. Maybe longer. Second hand smoke? A ridiculous theory. Those people survived wars. The smokers really vent their spleen about having to go outside, and even though talking, or ‘Smalking’ as it has been labelled, can be really positive, negative Smalking is becoming far more regular. It’s down to being in the cold weather or in the pouring rain. Smokers don’t want that. That’s one of the biggest subject matters of outside smokers: “why should we have to smoke out here?” That and football. Some people reckon that in the summer, when everyone’s outside including the non-smokers, the non-smokers will want the smokers inside. Opposite to how it is in the winter! I was never that good at science, achieving very bad grades, but I know that smoke just floats away outside so why should it matter? I was smoking outside and one guy told me that he really liked these two guys when he could smoke in the pub. Now he realises that one has real bad body odour and the other one has dog breath. The smoke used to cloud that. It’s true really, because the pub has an air freshener that constantly has to be used, whereas before it didn’t. If someone farts you can really smell-it. The other day one regular was literally heaving, and he’d only had a pint. It was because someone had let one go. Somerfield Dave was gagging as well, even though everyone pointed the finger at him. He was keeled over and everything. I reckon non-smokers will cave-in and want the ban lifted if people carry-on like that. Just you wait and see. More and more regularly Smalking appears to target the weak. We’ll be having conversations in a big smoking group, complaining about this that and the other, and then someone will say something and everyone will laugh hysterically at them. Not with them, at them! It’s a macho-type phenomena, I guess. A load of guys in a group being laddish and that kind of thing; the hunter and the hunted. A pack of wolves baying for blood. One guy, Dougie, was telling us how his jacket got caught on a bin, one of those ones covered in wire mesh. He was walking along, brushed against the bin, and his jacket got caught; just like that! Poor Dougie dragged the bin a few feet without realising his jacket was caught, and kids were pointing at him and laughing. I think he said they were teenagers, but they could have been kids. When Dougie was reciting this tale, he wasn’t too impressed, he said he loved the jacket and was going to get it fixed in a shop. Dougie is quite well-spoken and quite small; has a way with words. He described his jacket predicament as “bloody awful.” Everyone laughed at Dougie, and started saying things such as: “I burnt my toast this morning, it was bloody awful.” One guy said that the kids were probably pointing at the bin and wondering how it was moving on its own, because they couldn’t see Dougie… because he’s so small! See what I mean? Smalking targets the weak. Other Smalking subjects include women. When women are present they often get uptight about guys talking derogatory about other women, but this is all part of Smalking. One guy regularly goes to Thailand, and he said (fag in hand) that the women out there behave like women should do, because they don’t complain. All the women down the pub went mental, it was sort of vicious and they really laid into him. I guess he was entitled to his opinion, and they were entitled to their opinion. Anyway, sometimes women Smalk about men in the same way. I’ve heard them. I reckon they should reinvent the Jeremy Kyle Show into a Smalk show instead of a talk show. In the Jeremy Kyle Show, someone will say something, and then another person will have their say. That’s how it is outside the pubs, and often it’s far more interesting. They could call it something like: It’s Good to Smalk, with your host the walking Smalking Dot Cotton, or walking Smalking Pat Butcher. It could be an Eastenders spin-off. I reckon it could be a goldmine. Knowledge shared is knowledge gained.
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Travel to Budapest
Travel to Budapest "Europe's capital of cool..."
24/01/2008
Casting off the legacy of the Cold War, Budapest is fast emerging as Central Europe's capital of cool. The hen and stag parties may have it in their sights but with this guide you'll discover a city more chic than chav. Words: Clark Turner IT’S A FACT! Flight time from London to Budapest is just 2 hours and 20 minutes. It's not one city but two - Buda and Pest. Hungarian wine is the best in the world, according to the locals. The annual Sziget Festival is the biggest in Central Europe . TONGUE-TIED? I don't speak (much) Hungarian - Nem tudok (jol) Magyarul A cold beer please - Egy hideg sört kérek What are you doing tonight? - Mit csinál ma este ? CHECK THIS OUT Why visit one city when you can visit two? Welcome to Budapest - composed of the two cities Buda and Pest separated by the River Danube. It's back to the old skool in Budapest. The city has played a key role in European history for a thousand years and there are no shortage of ruins and grand civic buildings such as the castle and picture postcard perfect parliament building to impress. One of best ways to check these out is by boat from the Danube ( www.lengenda.hu ). For just £14 the ride will give you an unrivalled view for your snaps as well as providing some history on the city - and a stop off at the city's playground St. Margaret Island. Nazi invaders, Soviet invaders – Hungary’s had them all. Budapest has been through some tough times in the past. One of the most notorious addresses in the city (Andrassy 60) was first home to the Hungarian Nazis before the Soviet secret police took up residence. If you went in, one thing was for sure - you weren't coming out alive. The building is now the House of Terror museum telling how millions of Hungarians suffered and celebrating the 1956 Uprising. In the basement the torture cells and a gallows have been preserved. Nice. ( www.terrorhaza.hu ) When the Soviet's moved out in 1989, Budapest decided it was time for a spring clean. All 40 Soviet statues that dominated the city were removed and relocated. You can now find them at the Statue Park in all their Soviet Realist glory. A 30 minute taxi ride from the city centre will set you back around 20 Euros so it's best to catch the bus at a fraction of the price. ( www.szoborpark.hu ) Despite the past it's a city at a crossroads and a new generation of young people are now behind one of the most exciting arts and music scenes in Europe. You'll find the main arts district at Millenaris Park, the site of an old electrical works that is now home to a gallery, theatre, concert hall and jazz bar. The city's answer to the Tate, the Ludwig Museum, is a tram ride from the city centre. For a taste of fashionable retro Commie cool, Tisza Cipo (Karoly Korut, 1) has reworked the Soviet label into a line of savvy streetwear for a new generation. Prices aren't from the 1980s but style costs, baby. All too much? Thankfully, coffee culture and cake is big in Budapest. Check out the world famous Gerbeaud Cafe on Vörösmarty Square to experience tasty coffee and even tastier cakes in grand surroundings. SWEAT BOXES One of the most exciting things about Budapest is the guerrilla outdoor bars that spring up in the summer. Courtyards and rooftops lay out tables and chairs - and hey presto you have a bar. One of the best is Corvinteto (Blaha Luzja 1-2) on the top of an old Commie department store. A store still remains but the rooftop bar is buzzing with spectacular views of the city skyline and the bonus ball is you get free bevs in the lift up to get you in the mood. Being located in a flash new shopping centre might not be the most obvious place for the hottest club in Budapest - but what can you do? You’ll find Kameleon on the top floor of Mammut shopping centre. Gayers will find fun and frolics at the appropriately named Action (Magyar 42) and Coxx (Dohany 38) SPA ACTION Forget the big bucks a day at a spa might cost you in Blighty. In Budapest, you can experience the real deal for a fraction of the cost. For around a tenner you can hop between glamorous art nouveau thermal pools at the Gellert Hotel pretending you've just stepped off the Orient Express. The swimming pool is overtaken by waves every hour for the best fun you can have without taking your swimwear off. Alternatively the Szechenyi Gyogyfurdo es Strandfuro is just as much fun and half the price in the city park. IT’S A DATE 12-18 August. The Sziget Festival is Central Europe’s biggest musical festival of the year. Headliners have yet to be announced for 2008, but last year saw a line-up that included The Killers, Pink, The Chemical Brothers and Faithless. You get the picture. 26 August. Budapest’s answer to the Love Parade is the Budapest Parade. Half a million revellers and 50-plus sound systems take to the streets. 12-21 October. The city’s Autumn Festival celebrates the best in art, music, film and theatre. GET AWAY AND STAY Central Europe's biggest lowcost airline, Wizzair, flies direct from London Luton to Budapest on a daily basis. For more information and booking visit www.wizzair.com . One of the most fashionable addresses in the city is at Csokonai 14. The four-star Atrium Hotel is a prime example of new Budapest. Located in the heart of the city centre, you're only a hop skip and jump from all the major sights and night haunts. For more information and bookings visit www.atriumhotelbudapest.com
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How to beat the 'New Year Blues'
How to beat the 'New Year Blues'
11/01/2008
You should never have eaten the Christmas pudding. It was one step too far. Ridiculous really. It’s left you with bingo wings akin to the turkey; sprawled on the table like a corpse on a mortuary slab. You’re not much different, lying on that couch like a basking Walrus. Why do we do these things? Those ruddy trousers you received from your sibling are two-sizes too small now, and you wanted them for so god damn long. To top it off your finances are all over the shop, and counting the pennies hasn’t helped. Six-pound-and-thirty-four-pence; where does it all go? Still at least you’re on holiday. Yep, good old Saint Nick guarantees a holiday the same time every year. Oh, no… oh, fiddlesticks, you’re back to work tomorrow. Back to work, dear me; penniless, bloated and so stressed out you’ve turned to the bottle. Alas, help is at hand for the ‘New Year Blues’ in the shape of CEO and founder of ‘The Stress Institute’ Dr. Kathleen Hall. You may have seen the revered Dr. Hall on such programs as Oprah and Friends or CNN. She’s also a ruddy good journalist, with columns featured in the New York Times and Washington Post. Yes indeed, the lady knows her stuff. Anyway, Dr. Hall believes beating the dreaded blues is dead simple. All it requires is some ‘me time,’ fun and laughter, and a little bit of exercise. So beating the blues is a piece of cake really… Actually, let me rephrase that. So, beating the blues is a walk in the park… literally. It’s a hard time the New Year. You shove as much booze and as much food down your gullet as you can physically manage over the festive period, and throw your money about the place without a care in the ruddy world. But suddenly it all creeps up on you, like a bearded homeless fellow in the street; “sorry mate, no money, I spent it on a ruddy Cabbage Patch Doll and a DVD Combo for the kids.” According to online gaming site Pogo.co.uk, half the nation will be more stressed about having no money and returning to the same job. What’s more, women are affected more than men, with 51% of them tearing their hair out. 30% of Londoners alone are freaking out over money, whilst more than one in ten people in North England and Scotland are uptight about piling on the pounds - not losing them. “The new Year signifies a new start,” explains Dr. Hall. “But very often people are worrying about paying back their holiday bills, losing the extra weight they’ve gained or returning to the same routine they were looking forward to getting away from before the holidays. These things come together to create increased stress which can affect both your mental and physical health. Taking ‘me time’, exercise and play are simple and effective ways to beat the New Year blues.” Here’s the scientific part about combating stress, because as we know, science cannot be disproved. Science holds the key to truth - it’s an inarguable fact! Basically, taking time to laugh and play, as Dr. Hall suggests, reduces stress hormones and releases endorphins. This is a really good thing, because as we release endorphins we get all happy and merry, and things start to seem a-okay. Too many endorphins spoil the broth, so to speak, so it’s good to kick the ruddy things into touch. Furthermore, laughing boosts the immune system; aiding in disease prevention. So, if you’re suffering from a New Years bug or are feeling generally stressed out, stick on that Only Fools and Horses box set the old dear brought you for Christmas. You’ll be right as rain before long. It’s science. We can also release endorphins by doing a spot of exercise, even when you’re at work. Dr. Hall suggests chair-yoga. Gentle chair exercises are a hobby of the elderly, so if you’re young and fit there’s no excuse. Do a gentle thrust behind your chair, or move your legs up and down, keeping them straight whilst sitting, and you’ll be waving ‘ta-ra’ to stress and ‘hello’ to a beaming smile before the boss can shout: “where are those ruddy spreadsheets?” Pogo.co.uk, which offers over eighty popular online games, including Poppit!™, Word Whomp™, and Bingo Luau, has teamed up with the delectable Dr. Hall who recommends gaming as a fantastic means of beating stress. Pogo’s Vice President of Marketing, Beatrice Spaine is delighted to have the good doctor on board, as she explained: “83% of Pogo™ players have said that the number one reason for playing on Pogo is to sit down, take a break and let the day’s stress wash away. I’m so glad that we can partner with Dr. Hall to spread the word about the connection between play and stress relief during the New Year.” So put that bottle down, quit the comfort eating, and take your fist away from your colleague’s temple. Straighten your shirt, sit down and do some chair squats or leg-lifts. Then turn on your computer, head to Pogo.co.uk and play a few word games or a spot of solitaire. That’s better; you can feel the endorphins sliding away. Isn’t that fantastic? Before long you’ll have a smile from ear to ear, those trousers will slide on like a glove and the money will come flowing back. That’s if you’re not already obese, an alcoholic or have been charged with GBH for assaulting the guv’nor. Stress? Nothing to it really. Pogo.co.uk is an online casual games service that offers over 80 free games including puzzle, word, casino, classic card and board games. The site offers players an easy-to-use chat feature where millions of people talk about their favourite games, best scores, or simply share stories about their lives. Don’t tear your hair out, visit Pogo.co.uk . Words: Dave Dryden
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Don't blow your life away - Trident launches hard-hitting new advertising campaign
Don't blow your life away - Trident launches hard-hitting new advertising campaign
26/09/2007
STOP THE GUNS Given the massive love we got for our Think Tank Mean Streets feature a few months back, when details of the new Trident (the Met Police’s response to gun crime) campaign aimed at da yoof popped up on our radar, we couldn’t help but follow it up… The great thing about being young (we’re guessing, as we sure ain’t old yet) is the fact you’re pretty much invincible: everyone knows that dressing like Ziggy Stardust’s loser uncle in a Krankies wig makes you impervious to the future and it’s peeling magnolia-painted walls and retina burning 1994 computer monitors… well, for a while at least: then 27 kicks in and, at best, you haven’t got a kid with someone you hate and haven’t blasted your career chances on a four year wig out at a Lady-boy vegan commune in the Thai jungles. You throw away the clothes, hopefully buy some nicely cut suit and make enough money to pay off the noisome stench of debt which seeps off you every time you approach a girl with the glint in your eye. What everyone needs during these super-hero-powered days before responsibility crushes our spirits is a bit of a goddam reality check to temper the good times with a knowledge of the future. Notion remembers when we were pissing around at school and nearly getting expelled our Dad left us in the Job Office for about an hour with all the arse-scratching potheads trying to persuade the clerk to give them their Giro after 3 pm because they overslept. Horrifying – it totally straightened us out…though why we went for the “reliable” employment of writing we’ll never know. Fortunately, for those of you considering a career or lifestyle involving walking the streets with a gun, Trident have come up with their astonishing reality check ad campaign STOP THE GUNS – TV and Radio recordings of Category A murderers and those serving sentences for attempted Robbery, Murder and possession of a firearm. It’s… well, it’s more heart-rending than those smoking ads with kids and their parents on iron-lungs. Those even stopped us smoking for awhile. What’s the message these guys are bringing to the invincible, consequence-free youth? DON’T BLOW YOUR LIFE AWAY. It’s rather pithy, don’t you think? They’re also touring the five London boroughs most riddled with gun crime with a replica prison cell. That stuff is not pleasant, we promise. There was this time... nah, we’re kidding. We just remember it off Bad Girls. And even there it looked bleak (not just because of being on ITV). There is tons of information on the website, but being invincible youth and everything you’re also lazy youth and so really aren’t going to bother reading it but here it is anyway www.stoptheguns.org That’s why Planet notion and the clever Trident chaps have arranged a prize draw to win an ipod! Click here for details .
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Travel to Ljubljana, the new Prague
Travel to Ljubljana, the new Prague
18/09/2007
A capital city by name, but not by nature. That's Ljubljana. Being heralded as a the 'new Prague', it won't be long until this gem of Eastern Europe is invaded by hoards of stag and hen parties. So our advice is go now! IT’S A FACT! Slovenia is a great wine producing country so be sure to sample a glass or two. Outside of Ljubljana, Lake Bled is one of the country's greatest tourist attractions and host to all manner of watersports. OUT AND ABOUT The first things that'll strike you about the place is it's size. To put things in perspective, the population of Slovenia is only 2 million. Yep, that's the country as a whole. Relative to this is the size of Ljubljana. It's a small place which is easily covered on foot but with no shortage of things to see and do. Most cities have road signs to other cities, but with the borders only an hour or so away by car, you'll see signs to Italy and Austria! First stop should be the castle with sits on a hill dominating the city skyline. Take the newly installed finicular to save climbing and you'll be rewarded with a view over the city. The National Museum of Contemporary History (Clevoska 23) covers the 20th century, one of the most dynamic periods of Slovenian History. During this time, the Slovenians have changed states and state regulations several times, survived two world wars and won 'independence'. Whether it was at the hands of the Nazis or the hands of the Soviets, these people have suffered. It was only in 1991 that Slovenia secured independence and for many, the memories remain. In the city centre you'll still find a statue of Yugoslav leader, Tito, while the Republic of Slovenia Parliament Building in Republic square still stands as a monument to Socialism. Peppered by figures, on closer inspection you'll see they're all involved in manual tasks in a nod to Soviet values. Many Eastern European cities ripped out and attempted to erase all traces of their Socialist past following independence, but not in Slovenia. Here the attitude is, “it happened. Deal with it.” The Modern Art Museum (Cancarjeva 15) is nothing much to look at from the outside but contains a permanent collection of 20th Century Slovenian art - lots of surrealism, expressionism and multimedia. Impressive. Alternatively the SKUC Gallery (Stari trg 21) is the centre of alternative (sub)culture in Slovenia where you'll find work of young nationals as well as top internationally established names. Fancy spending a night in a former prison? Then the Celica Hostel (Metelkova 8) is the place for you. The former prison barracks for the Yugoslav army has been transformed with the help of local artists. Each cell has now become a one-off and original artwork sure to inspire some interesting dreaming. If you don't fancy checking in, if you ask nicely at reception they might just show you around. Feeling peckish? No joke, but one of the most popular fast foods in town is a horse burger. Really. Find out for yourself what it tastes like at Hot Horse (Trubarjeva 31). Plecnik is architecturally to Ljubljana what Gaudi is to Barcelona. Regarded as one of the pioneers of European modernist architecture from 1921 until his death in 1957, he left his mark everywhere. Highlights include the Three Bridges in the city centre (two foot bridges were added to the original crossing to avoid pedestrians being run over by traffic. Genius!), and the National and University Library. To gain an insight into the man behind the work, pay a visit to the Plecnik Collection in his house (Karonuva 4). Eerily everything has been left, just as it was when he died. But visitors can access an archive of plans, sketches, photos and models. It makes for a novel and interesting few hours. IT’S A DATE! November - Ljubljana International Film Festival. More than 100 films from around the world are screened across the city December - Xmas market. Takes place throughout December, by the banks of the Ljubljanica TONGUE-TIED? I need help – Potrebujem pomoc Where is the toilet, please? - Kje je stranisce, prosim? I understand - Razumem Thank you - Hvala Beer - Pivo WATERING HOLES Sharing coffee by day and cocktails by night makes for a cool crowd at Fraga (Mesti 15). Another favourite is Macek (Krojaska 5). The word means ‘cat’ and the bar is a mix between a Slovenian bar and British boozer, but still draws the crowds. BiKoFe (Gosposke 5) is a small and smoky joint with jazz and soul in the mix. SWEAT BOXES Bad news for gayers. You may not be the only gay in the city, but it can be hard to hunt the others down. Plan your visit carefully - the big night is on a Sunday at Klub K4 (Kersnikova 4). Boys and girls come out to play at Metelkova, a two courtyard block that's home to a number of venues playing everything underground and wonderful. Think Glastonbury in the city! For more information on Ljubljana call the UK Slovenia Tourist Office on 0870 2255 305 or visit www.slovenia.info GET AWAY AND STAY Adria Airways flies from Gatwick to Ljubljana, for information visit www.adria-airways.co.uk or call 0207 734 4630. EasyJet flies daily from Stansted to Ljubljana, www.easyjet.co.uk The City Hotel (Dalmatinova 15) is a hop, skip or stagger from the city centre and main watering holes. Its great location means you're right on top of things, be it sightseeing or partying. A double room costs from 119 Euros a night with breakfast, and a single from 79 Euros. For more information and bookings visit www.cityhotel.si
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Jay1 of Outlines graffiti
Jay1 of Outlines graffiti
17/09/2007
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Electroma
Electroma
16/09/2007
“ROBOTS ON A QUEST TO BECOME HUMAN”? WE WANTED DAFT PUNK’S DEBUT FEATURE FILM, ELECTROMA, TO BE A GRAND FOLLY OF PRETENSION AND HUBRIS – BUT THEN WE SAW IT AND REALISED THEY WERE PROBABLY GENIUSES. GUY-MANUEL DE HOMEM-CHRISTO EXPLAINED TO MICHAEL LEWIN WHY CHALLENGING THEMSELVES WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN LITTLE THINGS LIKE DIALOGUE. AND NARR ATIVE. AND PEOPLE. AND THEIR OWN MUSIC. One thing Notion was often fond of speculating with regards Daft Punk was why they seemed so desperate to escape the magnificent constraints of humanity. They perfor m as robots. In their music, they generally eschew all those instruments associated with earthly tones, and instead, from bleeps and beats, force our bodies to contort in unnatural dance moves more suited to cyborgs in a seemingly aggressive demand that we negate our God-derived physiques and attain un-humanity. Then, we realised they were French and so well within their birth right to be contrarily and unnecessarily pretentious; and so, rather than declaim them heretics and demand their barbequing, decided to chuckle along with them when they called their third record Human After All. ‘Touché,’ we thought, ‘kudos and, indeed, olé.’ — Then we heard that they’d decided to make a film about robots on a quest to become human, the opaquely-named Electroma, and thought that maybe the boys Bangalter and de Homem-Christo might have taken the whole thing a bit too far; it seemed self-regarding and pretentious beyond even the nortorious standards of the French. Nevertheless, we found ourselves curiously excited – surely as deliciously hubristic an event as hitherto flawless musical pioneers coming a cropper in art house cinemas would be a perfect cure for the mundanity at the root of our midsummer madness? This, we thought, would be a clunking nonsense, a chance to turn the legs of idols into clay! — But, alas, BOOM! went our mean-spirited intentions on first viewing; instead of pleasure taken at the fall of former greats, we were confronted with two chaps of distinction in need of a new challenge, brave enough to seek them out beyond the realm of the familiar. Electroma is a considered, meditative affair, occasionally moving, often infuriating but undoubtedly worthwhile. The film is laudable because it is neither the superfluous act of bored rich men nor a gratituitous exercise in ego – the two most likely results of musicians branching out. It turns out schadenfreude wasn’t to be our midsummer medicine in this instance – rather, it was humility. We were indeed right about one thing though: Thomas and Guy-Man are French to their very core. “We don’t expect that this is a film for everyone,” Guy-Man justifies when I remark that the film is perhaps a little difficult for the majority of their pilled-up stadium rocking audiences, “but there are some people who have tears in their eyes.” Certainly, there is a fair deal of emotion - but to say the emotion is obfuscated is to understate the issue somewhat... — It’s fortunate that the Punks are quite wealthy: we can barely imagine them begging for Hollywood gold. “So, famous musicians, tell me about your film...” “Well, two robots are given human faces which then melt and then they walk through the desert for forty minutes, before committing suicide in different ways. Also, there is no dialogue. And we’re not using our music.” “Come again? Actually, don’t. Leave.” Oddly, it is in fact the most objectionable qualities of Electroma which make it so impressive, so worthwhile an enterprise for these kings of dance. Still, we felt there were questions that had to be asked. First: why the hell are you making films, oh Guy-Man? — “We decided to make the film because it was a natural continuity from what we were doing with the first album, just having fun and not caring about any rules or what existed. It is a very free approach that represents our creative process. With the first album and its music videos, we were always taking care of the visual aspect as well as the music.” Consider the directors they’ve worked with as musicians: Spike Jonze, Michel Gondry and Roman Coppola amongst others. The latter is a member of Hollywood’s first family, the former two now at the fore-most edge of great indie-mainstream crossover cinema. That’s gotta be a boon, right? — “Of course. On set with them, it was just like being little children watching them and trying to lear n from them, seeing the way their brain works. With Gondry, he is like a child too – but at the same time he is mathematical . Working with men like that is a very powerful experience.” Though Electroma might otherwise have been represented as a nihilistic exercise in audience endurance, there is such a child-like naievety and wonderousness to both the robots and imagery that it is impossible not to be charmed – a child robot with an ice cream that it can’t possibly consume dropping it in terror at a melting face? Delectable. A desert turning into a close-up of a vagina? So silly it’s lovely. These lighter touches, which season Electroma and undermine its weighty pretension, have at their root that childish desire to be irreverent - children’s only redeeming feature, one that Electroma shares. — Of course, one thing children have over the denizens of Electroma is the art of speech. So, you’ve got your existential-yet-whimsical road-trip plot, fine, y’know, we can accept that with a lightness of touch. But no fucking dialogue? “For us, the excitement of the project was in the challenge. With no dialogue, with no Director of Photography, it makes more of a challenge. Film can transmit emotion, and we wanted to make it harder to have emotion when you watch. The soundtrack is full of emotion – but no dialogue makes it harder.” — By rights, such selfish reasoning should be grounds for vicious retribution on the behalf of the listless, increasingly infuriated viewer – but, rather, these are the very motives which we find praiseworthy and which catapult Daft Punk into an exclusive canon of pop artists with the right to lay claim to that second word “artist”. Bangalter acted as DP himself, and prepared by reading 200 old volumes of American Cinematographer. He rose to this challenge exceptionally – the lensing of the film is perhaps its most sublime aspect. Shot on Kodak 35mm, a heresy in these technophiliac digital days, the barren, anonymous Californian wastes, which lend the film it’s setting, are captured in a majesterial, sun-bleached-bleak haze. Sudden focus pulls switch the eye’s allegiance and the heart’s sympathy between robots, while epic framing of the vast desert exemplifies the daunting loneliness and futility of their quest. — For every challenging aspect which seems pretentious and wilful in conception, there’s another reason to enjoy Electroma. High-concept insanity like “Robots on quest to become human” is justified by method – as Guy-Man tells me, “robots aren’t human, they’re not supposed to give you emotion.” This is key – the Daft quest parallels that of the robots, where that goal of humanity is defined by the experience of emotion. The laudable challenges they set themselves, designed to obstruct the easy transmission of feeling (robots, no dialogue, etc) result in emotion achieved only when deserved, so all the more intense and fulfilling for it. A perfect example of this occurs when the two robots, having been given faces, discover these faces are melting and – pursued by robot townspeople – hide out in a public toilet. There, beneath flickering flourescent light, the more maudlin of the two (don’t ask how you know, but you do) undergoes an experience kin to a K-hole as he watches his dream of humanity literally disintegrate on his face to the suicidal folk tones of Sebastien Tellier. “Just music alone is emotional,” Guy-Man offers, “so what if you are looking at something which is completely unemotional? What does that do to the emotion?” Maudlin Robot is, at that moment, a more compellingly tragic figure than, say, De Niro reciting On The Waterfront into the mirror at the end of Raging Bull (well, almost). — The prerogative of many a Parisien, Thomas and Guy-Man’s cineaste qualities permeate the film throughout – while some might compare equivalent desert follies like Van Sant’s Gerry and “Ego” Gallo’s Brown Bunny, the style of Russian genius Tarkovsky seems more apt – “Yes, we are both big fans of Tarkovsky; the films we love best are where the imagination is working twice as hard.” It is with such an idea that Electroma is best understood, best appreciated and hopefully enjoyed: “The whole movie is full of gaps the viewer can fill. The film gives room for the imagination to be put onto the screen.” — Is Electroma for you? Let’s see. You! You’re eagerly anticipating the new Will Ferrell film. Well, piss off. But you! You’ve read books. You flirted with the idea there’s more to cinema than a continuous series of ever-greater explosions interspersed with grotesquely overdefined jaw-lines. If you can sit still for 70 minutes and keep your mind open, who knows? Perhaps, as Guy-Man hopes, you’ll shed a tear at the plight of a poor robot in an existential crisis. — The reason Electroma jolted me out of this debilitating Midsummer Madness, the reason I shan’t demand the heads of these chancing French charlatans on sticks for the criminal answer to the math problem “vanity + aspiration x pretension = ?” – the reason is that the sight of enquiring minds challenging themselves instead of taking the obvious path to money is a refreshing experience; and so their success becomes an inclusive pleasure. By setting themselves such obstacles and leaving emotion solely to music, they seem to be challenging the power of the medium they’ve found so much success in, questioning whether music is as grand a pursuit as they thought it thus far. I suggest this idea to Guy-Man; he responds with a nonplussed “er...non”. It would in fact appear that my pretentiousness out-weighs their ’s, forcing this article into a volte-face from it’s initial intent so fierce I may eat myself. Regardless, Electroma is such a sumptuous-looking, reflective mood-piece, successfully avoiding arsey theorising; it’s a delight for anyone wishing to join in, to challenge themselves as Daft Punk do the same. ELECTROMA WAS SCREENED IN THE UK DURING JULY AND AUGUST VISIT WWW.ELECTROMA.ORG . DVD RELEASED SEPTEMBER 3RD .
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Straight 8
Straight 8
15/09/2007
I had already heard of straight8 as I plodded hot and tired between the bra-cup pavillions spread along the International Village, a carpeted camp-site for industry posturing, at Cannes 2007. I headed for the Kodak tent, where there was a party quite unlike anything I’d seen in that peculiar town... quite the cure for this intoxicating mundanity, don’t you think? Straight8’s screening hosted no Linen-suited mafiosi spraying Gray Goose and Bollinger at cheeping chicks gasping for free intoxication, no sauve young producers exhibiting Blaine-inspired tricks (“you’ll remember me when your pockets are so full of business cards your hands freeze off in the arctic chill, baby”), no tuxedoed impressarios swaggering the jive they know is necessary for the next blag. That’s it: the real difference between Straight8 and the rest of Cannes was the lack of blag. — Instead, here was euphoria: none of the audience, including the film-makers themselves, had seen any of the films screened. So when something went spectacularly well, there were whoops, hats flung to rafters, riotous laughter, much spilling of wine- but most of all a potent and palpable passion for film, the unrepeatable instant of light first hitting an eight millimetre rectangle. — And Ed Sayers is a human distillation of that passion. He started Straight8 in 1999 as a ‘public experiment’- a means to explore as directly as possible the process of film-making. Straight8 stripped away the traditional backand- forth time-machine of the film-set, with all the editing in-camera , and the results of the shoot remaining secret to all until the screening. People liked the idea, so they ‘took out these old cranky cameras from friends’ lofts, dusted them off, got shooting and the films were amazing’. — There’s a polyester friction between creativity and obstruction- if there are no bars over the window of your cell, you’ll invent some, secure in the knowledge there’s nothing as scary as a free reign. But there’s always a workaround- so that obstruction is never more than another invention. Strict limitations force people to rely on ingenuity and originality, and that is liberation in the unwavering rules of Straight8- ‘it might be a stressful shoot , but when you finish shooting that’s it- you don’t ever have to try to polish it, or airbrush it , you don’t have to fiddle with this and that’. This presents an entirely new set of problems to the film-maker. There’s no going back- ‘if you happen to bump the trigger as you’re crossing the road, and get a shot of your feet , then that’s in your film. You could take the next shot, or work it in, or if it’s short enough maybe people won’t notice. Sometimes it comes out cool, sometimes it doesn’t.’ — So you have to rely on your luck, on ‘happy accidents’, coincidences you wouldn’t notice... But you can improve your luck- every year people are more inventive, more ambitious with the medium. At Cannes 2007 we were treated to the first Straight8 underwater shooting (Josh Sanders), fractal vertigoinducing stop-motion from scientist/director Colin Dewar, and Nick Scott’s split-screen Timecode homage examining the two halves of a relationship..The bar is raised year on year. — Since stipulating that all music must be original and copyright-cleared, Ed saw the originality in sound increase exponentially- ‘Because all the editing has to be done in camera, and you can’t see the film as you’re making the soundtrack, its quite an interesting process for a musician who’s brought into it- they’re asked to write something for a film they haven’t seen.’ — Shooting his own Straight8 for the first time in 6 years- ‘I needed to feel the fear again myself, having encouraged all these other people to do so, and it doesn’t get any easier’, Ed enlisted the help of musician Mary Mary (of Apollo440). He found himself ‘writing these descriptions of a film I hadn’t filmed yet, describing shots that hadn’t been shot yet- about how the mountains would look stopframe from a bicycle’. On seeing the film with the soundtrack for the first time, in front of 250 people, ‘some things came out better than [he] imagined or could have planned- little incidences in the timing of the music track’ — This year people sent 131 Straight8s, with 12 winners selected. And it is this positivity which drives the competition (and Ed himself) onward- ‘the reason I do it, and that I continue to have the energy to do it, is that the parameters and the strangeness of the process of Straight8 somehow drive a certain kind of film maker to just make a film... just having the balls to go for it- make a film in what can be a very punishing way- you’ve got to have a plan, but you’ve got to be able to change it if things go astray.’ There it is. Balls, plans, changing plans. And no blag. Or the purest form of blag. Choose your own obstruction. MAKING A STRAIGHT8 COULDN’T BE SIMPLER. IT COULD PROBABLY BE EASIER, BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT I SAID. THESE ARE THE RULES: · YOU SHOOT ONE CAN OF SUPER8MM FILM- CLOCKING IN AT AROUND 3MINUTES 20 SECONDS. · ALL EDITING MUST TAKE PLACE IN-CAMERA: SHOT AFTER SHOT. YOU DON’T EVEN GET TO SEE THE FOOTAGE UNTIL IT’S BEEN SELECTED FOR SCREENING. · ALL MUSIC AND SOUND TRACKS MUST BE ORIGINAL AND COPYRIGHT CLEARED- SUPPLIED ON A CD WHICH IS STARTED BY THE PROJECTIONIST ON THE FIRST FRAME OF THE FILM. http://WWW.STRAIGHT8.NET FOR FUTURE SCREENINGS .
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Circus front at the Roundhouse
Circus front at the Roundhouse
14/09/2007
Circus Front at the Roundhouse No wonder old school circuses are in decline: deformed freaks, ordinary people willing to humiliate themselves for a little attention… yeah, you see where we’re going with this. So how can the circus shake us from our BB-induced coma? With talent, intelligence, astonishing physical feats, an artistic sensibility and disturbing tricks involving penises. Presenting: Circus Front. Circus Front grabbed our attention for several reasons. First: spectacle. Really, really big, mad, eye-raping nonsense is fantastic. We were all kids once – what is the elegant, ever-slipping remembrance of sensual minutiae in Proust, for example, when compared with the ‘WOOOOOOOO-YEEEEEAH!!!! KILL DEM GUYS!!!!!!’ thrill of seeing a man with a massive jaw blow up half of the Middle East (as children we’re all a bit more like American presidents than we really want to admit). Traditionally, we’d recourse to cinema to fulfil that particular, testosterone-charged urge (fact: after watching action films men have better sex – let’s hope it’s a biological thing, rather than a latently homosexual one), but the release schedule for this summer has contributed to the rising insanity of the style media. Threequels! Mundane, tired continuations of franchises, donkeys whose backs are slowly breaking as they tread the paths to the multiplex overloaded with back-story, pomposity and flaccid love stories designed for the purposes of… bathos? Seemingly. The point is: we want ballsy-ness and the blockbusters are eunuchs. Fortunately, Circus Front is so ballsy it enters a room preceded by a wheel-barrow to carry them. Cinema has always been concerned with showing the best of life: the danger of death, glamour, breasts, sensual overload, animals and deformed people. Added together, such ingredients attain the quintessence of spectacle . However, now that they’re all daily occurrences in the life of a two year old, what with ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ and everything, the power of all circuses (except for Disneyfied vomitopia Cirque du Soleil) seemed to be waning. Happily, though, Circus Front exemplifies everything resurgent, vibrant and disturbing about the circus nouveau movement collated into a handy six week programme. Why has Circus Front shocked us out of our midsummer madness? What spectacle can it offer to compete with a mass brawl of pink-belt-wearing Lifestyle editors in a gallery four foot wide? Well, we’ve seen many an editorial shanking and – brutal though they are – never have we seen a man pull a tennis ball from his foreskin. Never. Honestly. That is something we have never, EVER seen in our life – and we’re not sure we ever wanted to, either. But, thanks to Australia’s Acrobat, it’s a sight we can take to the grave, our likely dying words something along the lines of: “BUT HE PULLED A BALL FROM HIS DICK!!! A FUCKING TENNIS BALL!!!!” It wasn’t what we had in mind when we said we wanted a spectacle with balls, y’know? Nonetheless, that is merely one of life-changing experiences the programme offers. Media as we are, cock-shocks aren’t quite revolutionary enough to dispel the malaise that has set in; even astonishing spectacle alone might not have been enough. The four collectives who comprise the bulk of Circus Front, however, combine spectacle with art, play the grand circus tradition against avant garde experimentation and confront spectators with death, beauty and, well, the aforementioned cocks. There’s also the extra bonus of Jacques Tati-esque slapstick – nothing makes us laugh like guys falling over repeatedly for an hour. Shit never gets old, like kicking someone in the ass. Collectif AOC choreograph feats of physical wonder within what is an almost painfully cynical attempt to be hip, with roller-skating, break-dancing and DJs. It is only when one realises that they are French, and therefore A) honestly believe they’re being cool, not trite; and B) the French support circus as an art-form seriously and are so actually really damn good at it. The brashness of AOC is contrasted by a sublime, understated turn from Collectif Acrobatique du Tangiers: director Aurélien Bory has brought out of these former Moroccan beach performers a medley of mercurial slapstick and elegant cultural commentary (a combination which had until then seemed impossible). NoFitState prove British circus is in recovery, and Acrobat – yes, there’s a lot of cock, but the nudity only intensifies your all-too-real fear that the man falling fifty feet down a rope is about to die. While Circus Front itself, in what Programme Co-Ordinator Verity McArthur calls their “Big Top made of Bricks” (the Roundhouse), ends on August 5 th , McArthur’s brave programming has given us hope that the nonsensical PC campaigns objecting to the abhorrent treatment of animals and the worse treatment of disabled people haven’t ruined this classical form of entertainment with its roots in Ancient Greece. The circus speaks to everyone: it appeals to that part of us which revels in stuffing our faces with junk and braying like apes as real human beings put their lives in great danger for our own amusement. Spectacle has history – grand dramas, bold statements, massive balls, all of them shock us out of the mundane. It’s what we want from all our art and entertainment. The reason Hirst’s stupid skull was so good was that it was fucking EPIC. So, with the clear-headedness of those who’ve escaped midsummer madness, we cry: more spectacle! More showmanship! More balls!
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Midsummer madness
Midsummer madness
13/09/2007
Think Tank Midsummer Madness The style media: don’tcherjusthate’em? A-walkin’ and a-talkin’ as if they’re party to a Masonic society of cool which excludes all but their own inbred social sphere (simpering fashion pricks with socks worn as hats and ugly, superior post-intellectuals incapable of speaking without an arched eyebrow of disdain). For those of you who wish biblical plagues of pustules visited upon the faux-grimy streets of Shoreditch – glad tidings! A peculiar malady has descended upon E1 and we in Notion towers are not immune… ‘So what’s happened?’ you cry, ‘And, more importantly, why should we do aught but rejoice? For is it not true that the style media’s constitution is exclusively people who pride themselves on their inability to be offended by, say, films about new forms of “cock fighting”? Those who would merely smirk at the sight of a man’s penis pecked to a pulp by a steroid-loaded rooster before a crowd of distressed, wailing orphans instead of being morally outraged? Fie to them! We wish them death by laxative!’ While we admit we’re yet to be convinced of the style press’ actual worth to the moral quality of society, you’ve gotta hear us out on this. You ask what’s wrong? This summer, in the private viewings and preview screenings we all frequent, the atmosphere of insouciant cultural critique has descended into tempests of partisan fashionista violence, all of us irate at this or that lacklustre piece of contemporary art rather than taking our usual joy in dismissing it. What had happened? Had we become so human as to no longer see others’ failures as an opportunity to re-assert our own fine taste? We were all perplexed (unusual in itself for an industry of know-alls). Whenever such storms would break out, we began to reassure one another by quoting the Bard – “Why,” we’d say, “this is very midsummer madness!” Thus spake Olivia in Twelfth Night, comparing the behaviour of her besotted servant Malvo’lio to the actions of rabid dogs beneath the glare of the June sun. Slowly, we realised the aptness of this statement – it was indeed a form of midsummer madness that had afflicted us all. But this summer it could hardly have been the glare of the sun which had sent us all mad. Nor, we hasten to add, is anyone at Notion afflicted with rabies (except, perhaps, the Editor). Still, when torrential rain and gales put a crimp on our wine-and-olives summer-park habits, we need some art that’s going to chase us down alleyways, up fire escapes and across the roof-tops, art that runs us so hard the act of breathing feels like it might break our chest bone in half, art that dangles us over the edge of a 15 storey building for shits and giggles. We need art that’s not afraid of breaking our face with stiletto heels, films that can illuminate the filthy crevices of our mind and live spectaculars like bombs in our crotches. Our midsummer madness, this debilitating malady laying waste to Hoxton, we realised, it’s brought on by the complete dearth of decent shit . So what’s this midsummer madness? It’s a poncy way of saying: WE’RE BORED! You’re boring us! Artists! Musicians! Filmmakers! Theatres! What’s this shit you’re showing us? How the fuck are we supposed to proclaim our superiority from our artfully designed pages when what you’re showing us to write about is B-O-R-I-N-G?! This is the reason exhibitions frequented by lifestyle editors are beginning to resemble illustrations from Dante’s Inferno , limbless torsos wailing that they’re doomed for eternity to wear tanktops and shorts. Festivals are obvious, line-ups uninspired. The multiplexes are filled with continuations of franchises that we really couldn’t be arsed with to begin with – “amazing, it’s Arachnidboy 14½! Let’s spend forty quid on popcorn RIGHT NOW!” is exactly what we haven’t been saying this summer. We’ve now seen so many retrospectives of Surrealism that when we need to make a phone call, we dive into the nearest seafood restaurant and order lobster. We were beginning to doubt we’d get the art-exhilaration vaccine we needed to survive the next few months. Without it, the style media might perish… But, Deus Ex Machina, we were saved! We began to come across events that bombed out the auditorium with muscles and nudity, the promise of death and slapstick comedy. We were rejuvenated by artists over-reaching and over-achieving, and by filmmakers ripping it up and starting again. Artists challenging themselves, vainglorious failures and supreme successes at once. This is what we want to write about! And you, you who snort and guffaw at we pretentious fools’ pain – be glad! For as we fell upon it all like some hipster Lawrence of Arabia would fall upon crates of Redstripe and Stoly after crawling across the desert, we realised that there was more and more – not merely an oasis of a crate, but an ocean of a free bar. We can hope again! We can tell you all about it again, and be superior again. We present to you just a few of those things that re-invigorated our passion in culture – in the hope that our passion might inspire you to find medication for your own midsummer madness. When you do, you – like us – will know the joy of displaying your superiority through your supreme good taste. It’s wrong, but it feels so good…
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Culture Vulture - Child's Play
Culture Vulture - Child's Play
12/09/2007
CULTURE VULTURE: CHILD’S PLAY Martha Cooper’s Street Play The Vulture sits perched atop the Gherkin, torpid and full, digesting the exquisite morsels he has recently purloined from some cultural cadaver. Ruminating as he does this, he concludes that now is the ideal time to tell you about a worldwide network of remarkable artists, who combine arts brut and povera, Duchamps’ ready-mades and a Surrealist re-signification of objects and acts. They are, of course, the Children. And he really does mean kids, wee bairns, the little darlings. See, the sight of children at play is a remarkable one. Outside the window of the office where the Vulture dictates this piece to his assistant, five children stand atop a beat-up Nissan and, in a sublime piece of performance art, take turns to jump on it in a Mexican wave of derision towards the capitalist model of consumption and obsoletion. When quizzed about their inspiration for this protest piece (much better than Wallinger’s State Britain ), these proto-Zapatistas simply stopped, climbed down, and, prior to dispersing, advised the Vulture: “Fuck off, gayer”. What wisdom! The one problem with observing these great artists’ works is that the presence of an adult shits on the whole reason for it existing and makes it stop. Adult-accompanied, a child is a lazy little fuck seeking only to freeload your evermore-depleted reserves of fun and money whilst taking every opportunity to be obstinate. Alone, it’s different: what seems like a caustic verbal assault on the Vulture’s sexuality was in fact a plea to protect their precious creative process. The transgression of rules and common sense which defines child’s play exists only without adults, so rarely do we glimpse it. Martha Cooper’s Eastpak exhibition Street Play is a singular peek into this unfathomable creative world. In 1977, Cooper used up film stock left over from work for the New York Times by driving around the impoverished, derelict Alphabet City on the Lower East Side, just “looking for creative things kids were doing when their parents weren’t watching”. The Vutlure opines that the resulting collection is an illuminating chronicle of the ephemeral, perpetual novelty defining children’s art. Their act of play leaves no record; it is judged purely on its ability to sustain entertainment (like drunken conversations with tramps). The photos should already be a creative bible – like Subway Art , her legendary chronicle of early 80s graffiti. So why is this vital document only reaching us now? “B ecause no one wanted to publish it. [The photos] have acquired a vintage patina over the years. When they were first taken I think they were just too ordinary.” The years of illumination we’ve missed out on! “My idea of documenting kids being creative grew into documenting hip hop. I don’t consider myself a hip hop photographer – the term didn’t exist. Graffiti is very much connected, because of that sense of play.” These children and their ilk - bored, poor and probably higher than the Vulture has ever been - would create the zeitgeist of the decadent end to the millenium. Do you see already, now, the brilliance of these creatures and what it can lead to? While these kids might have been wearing enough gold and surrounded by enough whores to corrupt a Pope in their imagination, we’ll settle for what we can see. The Vulture likes the sweet-natured series involving kids setting up a pretend bar using rusting cans, before staggering around pretending to be drunk. Another series sees boys “cooking” leaves in a club house, followed by the house collapsed into rubbish a day later. In a fit of pretension which might well see him ejected from real life, the Vulture associates the drunk’s tin cans with a Warhol-turned-binman pop art, and indicates parallels with the post-war Italian art povera movement, where natural objects become buildings and furniture. The images serve as a how-to for artists everywhere. “I’m proud of those pictures because they’re intimate – how many pictures have been taken inside a children’s playhouse?” The photos are, in a way, the kids’ own – as if they used this adult as a tool for their art. I wouldn’t put it past them; children are evil as well as genius, as we all know. Cooper describes herself as an ethnographer: “my form of documentary photography is a very literal, specific sort of historic preservation.” With Street Play , she’s documented the child’s world of inspired artistic genius – something, perhaps, for Tracy Emin to learn from before she makes any more flimsy shit, forcing the Vulture to read her precious explanations in ALL NEWSPAPERS FOR A MONTH - without realising that what she’s done is in fact merely a CHARLATAN’S IMPERSONATION OF ART. Cooper worries that “you’re not gonna find kids roaming Manhattan using raw materials the way they used to.” About that, she’s wrong – children are born artists. To win a copy of Street Play, turn to Lucky Buggers, page 97 www.e-eastpak.com Read (Imperative)! See through the eyes of a child. The Vulture forthwith suggests some themed reading matter. Writers, as adults, look hazily back on youth in the hope they might find how to recapture the pure pleasure of throwing stones at cows . 1. Arthur and Guinevere – James Schuyler – Philandering gay poet’s only novel, a dialogue-only story of the imagined world inhabited by a brother and sister avoiding family troubles. Light and charming like a kid in a bow-tie floating into the sky with a balloon. 2. Cider with Rosie – Laurie Lee – Professional Old Man Lee writes about the bucolic beauty and hardship of Gloucestershire in the age before technology ruined everything. Lots of corn and illness. 3. Les Enfants Terrible – Jean Cocteau – Sublime tale of another brother and sister’s fantasy world which leads to sexual deviance and death. Savour with red wine and prozac. 4. Le Grand Meaulnes – Alain-Fournier – The consuming adventures of childhood striving for love and fantasy worlds, ultimately disappointed by the realisation that other people are selfish c***s. 5. Bonjour Tristesse – Francoise Sagan – Teenage girl leads romantic fantasy life and accidentally perverts hordes of men old and young; like if Lolita wrote her own story.
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Vault 49
Vault 49
11/09/2007
You might have noticed how the stunning M.I.A cover binding these here pages bears the signature stamp of some special guest designers, Vault49. Who else would surprise us by gently taming the technicolour queen, flushing the brights from her outfit and enveloping her in soft, enchanted foliage, all the while hinting at her turbulent history with their unique visual language. Not only have they done Notion the honour of crafting our cover design, but they’ve also spoiled us by taking care of our M.I.A feature inside. Close inspection of their intricate style will best acquaint you with their inimitable style. Whether you recognise the name Vault49 or not, chances are the independent design gurus have invaded your consciousness at some point. Remember the Pepsi cans, each only subtly altering the geometric background from the last? That was them. The E4 campaign where seemingly innocent pictures are juxtaposed with sinister words, such as ‘paranoia’ and ‘corruption’? Them again. The pseudo-classical, floral-patterning, dreamy artwork now ubiquitous on dance music pack shots was of course first created by Vault; no doubt myriad design agencies set about aping characteristics of their work. And who can blame them? They’ve designed everything. And when I say ‘everything,’ I really mean it. Coca Cola, Smirnoff and MTV? That’s not just a winning combination as the precursor to a big night out; they’ve all felt Vault49’s artistic touch. From billboards to boxes, clothes to credit cards, nothing’s proven out of their creative reach. So with a client list reading like a who’s who of, well, just about everything, what made the British duo look to swap the Big Smoke for the Big Apple? Are you sitting comfortably? Then read on and I’ll tell you a tale… In 2003, John Kenyon and John Glasgow (yup, perhaps a tiny ounce of Vault49’s magic derives from its creators’ matching names!) attended a client’s party in New York, and within a week of being back in London the team had committed to a transatlantic transfer. Fast forward less than a year and they’d made the move. John Glasgow explains, ‘For a change of scenery and life, and to explore a new city and another part of the world’; an experience which has now doubt fired their creative flair further. And with New York’s outlook being, ‘on the whole, much more positive,’ Vault49 has gone from strength to strength. But what’s been the biggest difference in Vault49’s work since the move? ‘One of the most inspiring aspects of working in the US has actually been our interaction with the advertising agencies,’ says John. ‘They’ve been more adventurous in the briefs they’ve given us and have really put their money where their mouth is.’ So although Prince may have recently branded America ‘creatively stagnant,’ for these Brits abroad the change has been far more than ‘as good as’ the proverbial rest. And anyway, ‘many of the best aspects of US graphic design trend to reference European design for inspiration.’ But no one ever said change was easy. In fact – although I’m not certain as to why – David Bowie once told us to ‘look out, you rock n rollers.’ But whether the team consider themselves rock n rollers or not, with change invariably comes some level of sacrifice. Although the two Johns have no regrets about the move, it did bring about the sale of their Old Kent road screen printing studio. This has particularly affected Glasgow as it’s ‘without question’ his favourite medium with which to work. ‘It’s the most creative process we know,’ he says. Further, screen printing is ‘where accidents are often more welcome than the intended results.’ Expertly printed, graphic t-shirts and apparel have always been an integral element of their work. They formerly ran a clothing brand called Roule, but as this proved ‘too time consuming,’ they’ve replaced it with a collaboration with Artful Dodger. But before you scream ‘Bo!’ this is nothing to do with UK Garage. Or, for that matter, Dickens. Artful Dodger is a hot New York clothing firm specialising in directional streetwear, now distinctive for Vault’s ornate, colourful embroidery and curious printed imagery. It’s in menswear that John has noticed the biggest difference between London and New York. ‘Men’s apparel is taking a turn for the better over here,’ he says. ‘With the softening of macho ideals comes lavish embroidery, delicate tailoring and even some sequins for the brave! Beautiful tailoring with elaborate detail is no longer the reserve of women.’ Amen to that! So as we bring this tale to a close, do they have a favourite commission? ‘That could be the carpets of a Las Vegas casino,’ begins John. ‘Or the decals and interior of a nitrus-fuelled Porsche 911, a global campaign for Samsung, the Guardian marquee at Glastonbury…’ Although favourite should really be only one, the rules were apparently made to be broken by agencies like Vault, so I’ll sign off by letting that fly. Just this once. www.vault49.com
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