More Art at the MCA

Last Saturday Julia and I went back to the 2006 Sydney Biennale. Here is some of the notes I wrote after the event about some the pieces I had seen. I am enjoying the Biennale a lot - it is a mind expander!

Călin Dan the MCA

The man with the door is made and set in Bucharest. A video, watched on ‘sag-bags’ with a soundtrack listened to through headphones. The film is about a man walking through the streets with a door strapped to his back and the faces of the people he meets along the way. The music is a bit like how I would imagine Turkish drum and bass to sound [nasal clarinet sounds] like. The screen is sometimes split into four bits (with some clever camera stuff, so that on occasion the door-man crosses from one screen to another. It is filmed in lots of different angles. The nice bit is the feeling of a back-story. There is a reason for the man walking about with a door strapped to his back; it is just that you never find out what it is - He could be delivering it and got lost or it could be a bet or something …There is a bit where he walks down a steep slope by the side of a motor way (gray concrete everywhere) to where a family live in a yurt (?) – a large gypsy’s tent. This made me laugh because the tent clearly has no need for a large wooden door. The man’s face never moves. His purpose is to carry the door about.

* * *

On the other side of the room from the video about the door-man was another Călin Dan piece where he describes how he likes [not his word] the Egyptian Pyramids, Mayan temples (think of big steps and so on) that sort of thing. This piece does not stick in my head so much except the last couple of minutes. There is an opera sound track playing while a camera waves madly about whilst showing generals. As the opera rises the camera moves quicker until everything is a blur. The final scene is of a large concrete staircase that just leads up; the way the camera is positioned there is nothing to be seen except sky. People walk up the steps and disappear, or re appear and walk down the steps. This reminded me of an Odysseus story (the title escapes me now) with a similar idea. Julia and I watched the short film on beanbags again, a good position because of the way the film was short – being so low on the floor gave the images in the film more depth (i.e. if felt like I was in the picture, evening if only fleetingly). Had we being sitting on the seats provided, the film may not have worked as well. Bits of the film gave the impression of being on a very old ocean liner.

* * *

Finally, a film of a man with a camera strapped to his head, and saucepans strapped to his waist, spinning round and round so that that the saucepans rattled and banged. There were no seats this time, so we were looking down at a video down near the floor. The film was short on two cameras: one of the man spinning and one shot by the man. The soundtrack was called “Swamp blues” by Sleepy John Esties. There was no story for this!

Raqs Media Collective: Jeebash Bagchi/Monica Narula/Shuddhabrata Sengupta at the MCA

Transit Lounge

A short story about people stuck in an airport transit lounge, behind chicken wire. I asked the lady minding the room if the chicken wire was because the glass got smashed. She laughed and said it was part of the exhibit. Julia liked that one.

Interesting links:
http://www.context.ro/dan/ http://www.artfacts.net/index.php/pageType/artistInfo/artist/23008 http://subsol.c3.hu/subsol_2/contributors/calindanbio.html

Byron Bay

Ah Byron! The place I have been thinking about ever since I came out here... Will it have changed? Will be be a huge sprawling metropolis of shops offering to realign my chakras? Will it still have hippies it it? Well, the answers to those (and other questions) are available here: Yes, of course it had changed. I would have been a fool to expect that the little hippy village I visited in 1999 would have stayed the same! It was popular when my friend Leon went, it was more popular when I was there in 1999 and in 2006 it was heaving with people.

My contract at WorkCover finished up at the end of June. My plan was to roll up the coast, and go to Garma. Having had my conversation with Jeremy (my Yidaki tacher) I decided to stay in Sydney for a bit longer and save some money so that when I get to NT I will have a sack of cash to fall back on. So three days after leaving Workcover, I was already on the phone organising interviews. I got offered a job within a few days of that, but was told it would not start before the middle of July. I had a couple of weeks of freedom before I started I chilled. My first week was spent sitting round the hostel, having the odd lunch with Julia here and there and not a lot else. By around the 8th I was getting itchy feet. I drew up a little plan of what I wanted to happen over the next few months (included for your pleasure):

After that I hopped onto the ‘net. I was not going to sit around for the following week, on my bottom wasting my time. I decided to take a walk down Nostalgia Street and head to Byron bay for sun, sea, sand and lovelies. I booked the ticket.

The evening of departure, I gave Julia a call and met up for a walk and some dinner. We walked around Strawberry hills (a suburb in Sydney), until we came to a little restaurant called El Bulli, that did tapas. We ordered, ate and chatted, and became more and more amused and annoyed by the waitress who wouldn’t leave us alone! She must have thought she was being helpful but she was a royal pain in the bum! “Would you like more to eat?” (Sod off!!!) “Can I get you anything else?” (blah blah).

The food was great but any Michelin stars should be taken off because of the dopey waitress! Julia and I went to the bus station, then she waved me on to the bus and it pulled away.

The bus ride was 13 hours (left is a picture taken about 6ish in the morning - note the fog!). My bottom at the end was so numb I could have sat on broken glass without breaking a sweat. But finally I had arrived at the place I had been picturing for seven years, not without a huge wave of nostalgia. It was good to be back in many ways – the weather was so lovely that first day.

That first day (12^th) I wondered around. I looked at the beach (which was just where I had left it), the town centre (which had only changed in a few ways – more commercial unsurprisingly) and the hostel (Backpackers on the beach). I slept for a lot of the afternoon that day… 13 hours on a bus is far from lovely and I relished my bunk.

That first evening there was a bar-b-q, sangria and a fire juggle r. I chatted to a very dull girl from Essex who said some dull things about her opinion of Australia. I did not talk to her the next day! Late that evening, I spent some time writing and writing. My head was very full of events from the last few days I did not want to lose any of it. I wrote several pages.

To the left is a picture of the beach (<).

On the 13^th I enjoyed being asleep and being unknown for a bit. It is a nice thing to do sometimes – spend time on your own and I relished the thought as I walked off to the lighthouse that is on the easterly most point of Australia. After at least an hour – having walked through some really charming scenery) I made it to the top of Cape Byron (?).

The weather on this day was a lot less pleasant that before, but I did not care. The walk was tiring but made me feel super human. I was pleased to go and chill in the hostel though.

The 14^th is a bit of a blur! Not sure why! Could have been down to beer but I don’t think so, so I will skip to my last day. I checked out of the hostel by 10am and dumped my bags in the lockup at the bus stop. I took my camera and wandered around in the rain taking photos – photos on the beach in the rain, didjeridu shops in the rain, surfers (yes that’s right) in the rain…. You get the picture! On that last day I ate like a king and then took the bus back to Sydney. You might think I became a bit jaded about Byron, and in a way you could be right, but it was still good to get back there.

The hostel was waiting for me, with my bed and my didjeridu! Julia was there on laundry patrol too.

On the left is my impression of Man Friday from Robinson Crusoe. I call this picture "Dan Friday" - there will be autographs in the foyer after the show.

:)

Another Lesson with Jeremy Cloake

I have just had another music lesson with my yidaki teacher, Jeremy Cloake; a really decent sort of individual from New Zealand. He has been playing yidaki for years. He is an impressive player - not just his skills, but his modesty about what he can do, and who he knows. I went back to talk to him to help me improve the growley sounds I make on the inbreath, playing yidaki, so he sat and went through some techniques me designed to start improving diaphram strength and cheak strength. The Yolngu yidaki players work with a lot less backpressure in their yidaki than western players do hense they must learn to work with their diaphrams to provide the kick needed from the sniffing-inbreath. So, over the next few weeks I will be practicing with the view to improving my diaphram and cheaks. I was starting to make the desired sound by the end of the lesson. Imagine a flam sound on a drum kit: two sounds played almost together, but only slightly off and that is the sound I was after.

We discussed Garma and he suggested that rather than going to it (it would be in about a month's time), I wait a few months and he might be able to take me up there himself. If this happened, I would manage to fulfill a dream I have had for some years - to go a meet people up in NEAL. It would be astounding. Cross your fingers, my dear readers, that your humble author gets to go on this trip - the slide show back in the UK would be amazing. I am going to have to work very hard to save the money to go on this trip.

Into the Blue (I & II)

My contract at Workcover was rolling to a close by the end of July, and at that point I still had not seen anything out side of Sydney! I remedied that on Thursday 22nd and Friday 23rd July. I had been at the Billabong Backpackers on Egan Street since arrival on April 16th (except for two days at the dreaded Wake up! hostel) and was starting to get cabin fever, even though I had met some cool people. I had been playing Shit-head most evenings and had bought a backgammon set too and had played it to death...
One evening I got in from work. It was raining hard - the pool in the hostel (more of a paddling pool really) was getting more and more diluted by the moment and my mood was less than its best... I got talking to Rod (one of the hostel managers) who told me he was going to drive up to the blue mountains with a couple of people. Would I like to come along? Of course I signed up - Rod knows the area quite well and knows the manager of the Flying fox; a lovely little hostel in Katoomba.

My friends Sue and Graham signed up too. Here is Rod in the left (<) and the rest of us on the right (>). So we got up on the Thursday morning. Sue made some pancakes to reheat for breakfast the next morning. I made something exciting with pasta and pesto then the four of us got into the car and left. It was exciting the leave Sydney after such a long time - within minutes we were driving through suburbs that I had never been to. After so long walking everywhere, travelling in a car was great and because I had called shotgun (still a child at heart) I had a great view... We drove and drove and drove, stopping once for some 'English tea' (a.k.a dishwater in a teapot) and then making further stops for a bit of sightseeing. (This is when it gets a bit sad for me because I managed to lose so many of my photos...). Well, I say sightseeing, but there is not a lot of sightseeing to be done when the whole place is covered in fog! Hahah!! Here is another photo to show you what I mean...
Fog is very pretty obviously, but not when it is blocking my view of "rolling vistas"... We would stand out on the side of the road looking out into nothing from a viewing spot (ever seen the Neverending story? - looking at The Nothing is like being blind). We would have to guess what we were seeing from the little plaque - 'here is a waterfall' (great!)... After we had stopped half a dozen times, and the fog showed no sign of abating, we were getting a little jaded. We decided to stop at the chocolate factory (no, I didn't know there was one in Katoomba either) and have some hot chocolate. From a glutton's point of view, this was one of the high points of the day. The idea is this - take a handful of high quality chocolate buttons, melt them in a little pot that looks a bit like an oil burner, then pour the result into warm milk. I did not think it was possible to overdose on chocolate, but I was wrong! I had to roll out of the chocolate factory and felt green for at least 20 minutes afterwards!

The plan was to have a bar-b-q that evening, so we went to the IGA (ozzie Sainsways) and stocked up on kangeroo steak. Contrary to popular belief, it tastes nothing like chicken. It is very gamey and almost sweet. Yum yum yum!
The hostel was very cool - there were guitars and didgeridus (tourist rubbish mind you). The staff were cool too. One of them was a smiley german called Katherine, who ended up eating pancakes with us all on Friday morning. So that evening we sat around with Mr Flying-fox and ate bar-b-q. We drank too. The next day, we slept in a bit then got up for pancakes, maple syrup, ice cream and fruity-stuff. The drive home was very chilled. We stopped off at the skyrail and picturesque (I don't like that word!) views. By the time we got back to the hostel, we were all pleased to relax with our legs stretched out.

I saw 10 Canoes on Saturday night (1st July) and loved every minute - it is a great film for so many reasons: it is very funny, the story is complex enough that it keeps you entertained and it is groundbreaking too. Its tag line is "Ten canoes, three wives, one hundred and fifty spears...trouble", which I like because it is very witty. It has to be seen to be believed. I went with my friend Julia, who is interested in Australia for some of the same reasons I am, with the addition of art as well. Julia was the person that told me about the Bangu Yilbara exhibition at the MCA (near Sydney Harbour), and knowing someone like her is good because it means I have someone to discuss some of the things of interest while in the hostel, such as Garma. She is not just here to get pissed - she wants to see Australia, and I am sure she will. She is good humoured and intellectual so the film was spot on for her.

Anyway, back to 10 Canoes.

10 Canoes is a story within a story, narrated by David Gulpilil. David tells the story of ten men who went into some marshland on their canoes (which the audience watches being made). One of the men is called Dayindi and it is his first canoe making trip. Dayindi, it turns out, is falling in love with the young, lovely, third wife of his elderv brother. The elder brother knows this and spends the rest of the film telling Dayindi a story about a group of ancesters in an attempt to make Dayindi see his folly. In that story, Yeeralparil, yet another young man, has fallen for the third wife of his elder brother too. Yeeralparil tries to see the girl as often as he can, much to the irritation of his sisters-in-law. The film splits and converges several times. The punchline is very funny, and I don't want to spoil it. The story is told in the Ganalbingu language and it's website is here. Two nights later (Monday) I went back and watched it again with some other people. It was even better the second time.

The next weekend I went back to the Blue mountains, this time on the train for a didgeridu (yidaki) lesson with a chap called Mike Jackson - a well known player who plays in the traditional style. I had been having problems making the sounds and breathing in the correct places. I was expecting to go over some of the similar stuff that I went over the Jeremy Cloake during his lesson, but that did not happen. Instead of talking about Yolngu yidaki mouth sounds, we talked about how to punctuate a yidaki rhythm with toots (the horn tone): e.g. toot! toot! digi digi digi digi toot! toot! etc; useful for strengthening the mouth. Things got exciting when he started to show me how to inhale on the toot! That'll mess with people's heads!

Near the end of June, Ryan (a friend from back in the UK who used to live with my good mates Leon and Tracy) got in touch and invited me a beer convention. LOL! Good bloke! I rolled up to that, 'sampled' a few beers and rolled home. A few days later he invited me to his house party, in Bondi Junction. I was quite excited to see Ryan and to finally get to Bondi (even though it was late in the evening. I went and got larrupped! I spent the evening drunk and chasing an american girl round the party. So that was nice... :)

I had my last day at Workcover on June 30th. I took the train up to Gosford which is roughly 1.5 hours northish of Sydney. I worked, closing calls during the morning and then was taken to Iguano Joes for lunch! It was a good feed: Thai Green Curry and Rice :) Brett, one of the guys I worked with then gave me a lift him, which was jolly kind of him.

Garma is not long away - it is a huge indidjinous festival of dance, music etc. The blurb about Garma goes like this (taken from the website): “A garma is a sort of place – of rich resources for many people, this garma thing. For all yolngu [people]. Like this, all yolngu always used to come to this thing garma, coming together, all different groups.” - Gunygulu Yunupingu.

At Julia's recommendation I went to the Bangu Yilbara exhibition Sydney's museum of contemporary art. The blub is as follows: Bangu yilbara: works from the MCA Collection11 May - 1 October 2006The MCA's collections are extraordinarily rich in their diversity. This exhibition reflects the variety of directions contemporary artistic practice by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander artists has taken over the last two and a half decades as represented in the MCA’s collection. New and recent acquisitions are presented with earlier works shown for the first time or rarely exhibited. bangu means “to make” or “to do” and yilbara means “now” in the local language of the Gadigal people, acknowledging the traditional owners of the land where the MCA is situated. The exhibition includes Tracey Moffatt’s Adventure Series, Dennis Nona’s Sessere, and David Malangi Daymirringu’s Dhornbal/ Guwatjuru ga Nungula/Bimbudi (lawyer vines and water plants).Artists included are Ian W. Abdulla, Brook Andrew, Gordon Bennett, John Bulunbulun, Destiny Deacon, David Malangi Daymirringu, Lena Djamarrayku, Tony Djikurlurlu, Tony Dhanyala, Fiona Foley, Mary Gubriawuy, Melba Gunjarrwanga, Wally Lipuwanga, Tracey Moffatt, Jack Nawilil, John Ngarrarran, Dennis Nona, Brian Nyinawanga, Elizabeth Nyumi, Eddie Puruntatameri, Giovanni Tipungwuti, Bede Tungutalum, Joseph Warlapinni, Micky Wungulba, Dick Yambal, Lena Yarinkura and the collective Redback Graphix, Karen Casey, Alice Hinton, Merrille Lands, Fernanda Martins, Marie McMahon, Arone Raymond Meeks, Sally Morgan, Trevor Nickolls, Lin Onus, Jeffrey Samuels, Bede Tungutalum and Paddy Fordham Wainburranga.

It was not a big exhibition, but what was there was lovely. There was 'traditional' using the four standard colours - red, black, yellow and white. Then there was also art from 1988 (the bicentenial) and art about racism. A good example of this was a white on black piece that said 'coon, coon, coon, coon, coon, coon, coon' etc.

Still early days in my art-appreciation, but I am glad I went. I'll get to discuss it after, too.

New Plans...

My plans are in a constant state of change. In their present incarnation I would like to do the following: leave Sydney at the end of this month with a pocket full of dollers and mosey up the coast to Cairns, covering the distance in three weeks (making a stop of at least three days in Byron Bay). Once I get to Cairns, I want to take a bus to Darwin. On arriving in Darwin, I want to get somewhere to live with some good people and get work.

Once I am up in NT I want to go exploring. I want to see the Garma festival (and have just put an 'expression' of interest about that in), meet Djalu Gurruwiwi, see Kakadu National Park and spend some time in the Gove peninsula. I want to make friends with interesting people and when I blog the events of the next few months, I want to do so with pride.

My yidaki playing is improving slowly. I have learned a mouth sound: "Witj-dju" quite well and hope to play "didh-dhu" with the right breathing soon.

Sydney Harbour Bridge

Doing what I love best (on the side of my face)



Right near the harbour bridge!!!! Haha! COME ON!!!!!


Outside my work on a nice warm day...

Family, Mormons, Yum Cha and Sugar....

My Cousins, the Enevers.....They live in Fairy Meadows, a suburb of Wollongong. Keith and Gill moved out to Australia about 20 years ago, when it was still possible (and almost encouraged) to do so, and to be blunt, I am jealous of the life they have. Their house is beautiful and spacious - a large 'rustic' kitchen that opens out onto a garden full of 'cawing' birds, several lovely shady bedrooms, a front garden that looks out onto a street so clean that you could eat your dinner off the floor. When I first arrived in Sydney I was armed with their phone number and arranged to see them. So on 27th of May I hopped on the train (with the world's best hangover from the night before: an evening drinking and singing raucously with hostel people) and made the trip down past Austinmer (where Claire Gerson lives), Thirroul and so on to Fairy Meadows. I was met at the train station and given a bit of a tour of Wollongong (not a bad city, only slightly scabby because of all the industrial buildings) and then dinner. Because of the night before, I was in bed early. I must have slept for about 14 hours! It was great! The only real downside of hostel living is the snoring bugger in the bunk above mine, so a night in my own room was a real Godsend. The next day we took a slow drive up the escarpment and through the bush to the outskirts of Sydney, and had lunch on the way. There is a bit in 'Crocodile Dundee' where Dundee and his pretty blond friend are driving though the bush. Birds are calling to one another and that truly Australian way.... In a way, the lunch was like that - the trees were full of birds (very noisy birds), shouting to one another, and any Englishman-abroad (such as I was). It was magical.

That was one of the last days of bright, hot sun before Sydney winter really started.

I had bought 'Name of the Rose' some days before and was reading it on the train. Quite a hardcore book - funny sitting on a train in Oz reading about monks in Europe...

I have been at Workcover for weeks now. As you know, my first few days were spent in Gosford. Then I was working in Sydney under the watchful eye of Stephen Mason, learning the ropes. Stephen is now off round NSW on a server refresh, so I am manning the fort! A nice twist to this is that the chaps in Gosford are on rotation and come down one day a week each to keep me company. Dan Wong introduced me to Yum Cha last week - and I am glad that he did.... Yum Cha is Chinese for 'drink tea' - basically it is a cool way to eat lunch. You and your mate sit at the table and swarms of pretty girls wheel trolleys over and you choose little plates of this, that and the other - noodles, rice, dim sums etc. When you are not eating, you are drinking tea (Dan says it helps digestion), which is served by the one who did the inviting - you thank them by tapping three fingers on the table, in the Chinese custom. When your pot empties you hang the lid half off, and one of the Chinese lovelies comes over and refills it free of charge. Lunches out are fun. With Dan, I eat Chinese food, with Brett, curry, with Ian, more curry and with Jon Heyman, burgers. I am not starving here, and because the food is cheap I am not breaking the bank either. Plus, (apparently) eating out is very Australian. Who am I to argue with such flawless logic as that? Plus, yum cha as bloody great!

In the hostel with me is a bunch of mostly nice people. Once of the better ones is a German called Isobell [sic], who has been out in Australia for 11 (?) months on her working visa before she goes to university. She is a laugh and a chatterbox who likes her goon (slang for cask wine) and tea. She is a practical character too - she bought herself a big bag of sugar a few weeks back, and rather than store it in the kitchen (her food box is not too large) she keeps a little salt pot full of sugar instead. Sensible! Her rationale being: it saves space and there is much less chance that some thieving-scumbag-backpacker is going to get their mitts on it!

Last week I went back for round 2 with the Mormons. Round one, the week before, had been an interesting experience, where I met three of them - Sister Tanner (US), Sister something or other (Kenya?) and Sister Dunno-her-name (China) who was very, very short, and smiled a lot. One of the things I wanted to do here was try new things (the week before I had gone to a Marxist meeting as perhaps you know) so when they said, "would you like to come to prayer meeting?" of course I said "yes". It was interesting: their outlook is different to mine, but they are not like other religions in that they do not tell me I am going to burn for all eternity if I call myself a Hindu. They gave me a book of Mormon (which I plan on reading one day) and some leaflets and sent me on my way.

Then the phone calls started.

They wanted me to go back, but I was not convinced! I told myself to politely decline when I next met them, so during round 2 with them, I did. I told them that I was not going to convert and that the reason I had come to a meeting was to learn new things. I am quite happy with my beliefs, thanks very much, and to be honest, if I converted to every new religion I heard about, my beliefs would not be worth a sack of beans! They have left me to learn a bit on my own now. If I have questions, I might go back. I am not going to be a Mormon though.