15/05/2012

Motorists used as human shields fined for stopping on freeway*

By The Cultured Animal

Big news in Melbourne today: cops used civilian drivers as road blocks on the Hume Freeway to stop a renegade teenager in a stolen car. There were some (younger) kids in one of the stopped vehicles. The cops copped a lot of flack** for their, er, innovative enlistment of the public in pursuit of their wanted man.

Other big news in Melbourne today: transport and motorist groups called for penalties for drivers who stop on freeways.

Small news in Coburg today: my housemate fined more than $300 for running a red light by .7 of a second.

Page two of The Herald Sun: some benevolent fellow tampered with everyone’s traffic fines.

Me to housemate: “Take that one to the bank!”

A vehicle that was damaged in the incident on the Hume Freeway.

A vehicle that was damaged in the incident on the Hume Freeway.
Photo: Madhawa Mapa. From The Age.

  

*Not really.

**Pun intended. The world needs more puns, especially during discussion of life-threatening events.

1 comment   |  tags: , , , , , , , , , | posted in Uncategorized

23/02/2012

A Labor Heart

By The Cultured Animal

I wonder what it means

to have a good Labor heart;

does she beat with steady rhythm,

or does she stop and start?

Would she race, when faced,

with a good, Labor agenda?

Or is she close to breaking,

and there’s nothing that can mend her?

Treasurer Wayne Swan released a statement last night slandering Kevin Rudd, who has just resigned as Australia’s Foreign Minister while abroad in Washington.

Swan’s negative, personal attack on a colleague is not particularly noteworthy, as we all know how dirty contemporary Australian politics is. What is interesting, however, is his gentle invocation of a loving mother-figure in Prime Minister Gillard.

A far cry from the “barren”, spinster-ish character who coldly disposed of Rudd in taking the Prime Minister’s office, Swan alludes to Gillard’s “heart” not once, but twice. He said she has “a good Labor heart”  and “has always known in her heart … something Kevin Rudd has never understood”.

If we see it Swan’s way, Labor will be left with a choice at its leadership ballot on Monday between Kevin – an arrogant, self-important arsehole – and the loving, open-hearted, patriotic Julia.

We don’t need to create caricatures of our politicians – they do it for themselves.

3 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Cartoons, Politics

07/02/2012

New Evidence Shows Christmas Unsustainable

By The Cultured Animal

It might have come to your attention that a recent post was delivered entirely in black and white. Not one colour to be seen. Well, apart from on the banner. And some of the icons, and … Anyway, you might think this two-tone wonderland had something to do with the illustration included in the post (very kindly produced by my wonderfully talented friend Nicole Firth). You might also think it was because the cover of Steve Jobs’ bio, also pictured, is as colourless as an original Macintosh computer.

Well, on both accounts you’d be wrong!

This morning I stumbled across an interesting little article whilst reading a newspaper and munching on a sugar-free, gluten-free banana muffin*. That’s right, an actual newspaper. (Never mind that I had to accept cash and sexual favours to read it.)

Here is the interesting piece of news I read, much more interesting than anything that may or may not have happened between myself and the, er, salesperson:

New Evidence Shows Christmas Unsustainable

The International Colour Factory has withheld colour from recent posts hosted through popular blogging site WordPress after an overuse of its colour quota at Christmas left the company in short supply.

The CSIRO recently discovered that producing Christmas reds and greens emits more carbon than the production of all other colours combined.

Christmas 2011 saw businesses significantly increase their use of red and green merchandising, in an attempt to buck the global economic downturn and entice customers to spend money.

A spokesperson for the International Colour Factory says the company is working with environmental consultants to rethink its current business model in light of the forthcoming carbon tax, “otherwise we won’t  be able to sustain business through next Christmas.”

Stop-gap measures at the company include limiting use of colour where possible, and opting for lower-carbon colours such as Straw Yellow and Burnt Umber.

Meanwhile, Senator Bob Brown announced he would be meeting with Santa next month to discuss possible changes to the official Christmas colour scheme.

“We know it’s difficult for people to part with their tradition, but we need to be living sustainably today if we want to continue traditions such as these tomorrow,” he said.

When asked whether he would change the name of The Greens, he would not comment.

…

… screens without colour

like a world without screens …

…

© 2012 Michael Edwards


More fancy graphics from Monsieur Michael Edwards here.

…

*This is a blatant lie. I’ve never seen one of these ANYWHERE and I would probably keel over and die with overjoyment and surprise if ever I did. Do you know how hard it is to get food on the run when you have so many weird food intolerances? Who said I want to be a planner! I want to be the type of person who gets up five minutes after I arrive at work and subsists on stolen jelly beans and extra-large, full-fat, triple-shot lattes, followed by a three-cigarette lunch! Grrrrrrrr. Now where’s that fucking coffee …

Leave a comment   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Environment, Politics, Technology

26/01/2012

Don’t Care Much for Money? This American Life explains all …

By The Cultured Animal

For someone who used to sit up the back of my high-school Economics class listening to 90s indie-pop on a Discman – one headphone in my teacher’s ear – this is probably the clearest, most moving piece of journalism I have yet encountered about the Global Financial Crisis. It starts with background material on the invention of the Euro, then explains in layman’s terms just how and why Greece went topsy-turvy. The rest is history.

An unprecedented hit public radio program in the US, This American Life has an uncanny way of exposing the deceptiveness, corruption and sheer insanity that we are capable of as human beings. This outstanding documentary is no exception.

Critics had nothing but praise for the recent Australian tour by host of This American Life, Ira Glass.

3 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , , | posted in Economy, Politics

11/01/2012

Beirut (band). For other uses, see Beirut (disambiguation).

By The Cultured Animal

No, I didn’t take any poor snapshots of the band on my smart phone. I was too far away – just far enough that they looked kind of like every other band at a gig of this size: glowing sunset-coloured people in front of booming blue lights. (Except when the sousaphone came out, then one of them was a glowing pink thing with a brassy halo.)

So here’s a proper photo made by someone who makes proper photos. Specifically, the very talented Olly Hearsey of Lion Works Studios:

Put a bird on it!

Live or Die

With everyone these days downloading or streaming music and video for free, musicians have so much riding on live performance. Bands can set themselves up for failure too, because while the tools for adding layers of complex, perfectly executed sounds to a recording are so readily available today, reproducing that same sound live can prove a challenge.

Take Neko Case, for example. Her last album, Middle Cyclone, is a superb work of poetry and art, full of vivid imagery and evocative, carefully placed soundscapes that transport you into her strange world. However, though Case is an impressive singer with a pleasing sense of humour, the relatively conventional arrangement of her live show when she last toured here failed to convey the same dreamy imaginings as her record.

Beirut, on the other hand, are just bloody fantastic musicians. You can tell because the decorative notes that shroud the melodies of each instrument – including Zach Condon’s warm vocals – vary subtly from those heard on the recordings. The feeling is all there, all improvised, not pre-packaged. (Also, when I saw Beirut at Meredith however many eons ago, the sound system was chucking a spazz but the band still managed to knock out an impressive performance.)

Last night’s set at the Forum in Melbourne was naturally weighted toward material from their latest album The Rip Tide, but they also played plenty of less familiar songs not lifted from any of their three albums. This showed the band has an impressive amount of material to choose from, despite having been around for only five years. Clocking in at less than an hour before their encore, however, the set did feel a bit short.

Neko Case: I SAID PUT A BIRD ON IT

Celebrate Good Times, Come On

Trumpets, horns, ukes and accordions are not the usual, and they are what give Beirut its unique and familiar sound. What other popular contemporary band casually throws a sousaphone solo into its live set, followed by a trumpet solo?

One tends to think of loud marching bands and out-of-tune school orchestras when the word ‘trumpet’ is mentioned (or perhaps ‘strumpet’ comes to mind, depends where your mind’s at exactly), but when you add Beirut into the sentence, the trumpet becomes beautiful, subtle, gentle, whimsical – and also yes, perhaps the thing it’s best at – majestic.

There are also moments watching Beirut when I feel like I’m at an old Eastern European relative’s 50th wedding anniversary. My Czech friend who was with me had a ball, and wondered why Australians don’t clap along to everything at concerts. But Beirut is a band you can sway to, rather than dance. The sizeable but placid crowd, gathered together in what is arguably Melbourne’s most beautiful music venue*, certainly lent an atmosphere of festivity, even if we weren’t exactly bouncing off the walls.

You Must be a Pop Singer in Disguise

Where Beirut also deliver is in their multiple-whammy harmonies: not just gorgeous vocal harmonies, but brass harmonies too. It’s like a delicious layer cake. Yet the band’s arrangements and chord progressions have an easy feel that never becomes overwrought, and Condon’s charming vocals – a perfect complement to the band’s warm, brassy sound – always carry the songs.

In the end, this is great pop music in disguise, even if it has a melancholic edge.

*Just don’t try and order anything weird, like a gin and soda, because the bar staff will look at you oddly and make bad jokes. Really. No-one’s ever ordered a gin and soda at the Forum before.

The cloak room at the Forum, by the way, is completely free of charge. There was also never a line at the bar or at any of the exquisite ‘ladies rooms’. Dear Forum. I love you.

Leave a comment   |  tags: , , , , , , , , | posted in Music

07/01/2012

Didn’t get the Jobs?

By The Cultured Animal

Hmmmmmmmmmmm .....

If any of you have been trying to get a hold of Steve Jobs’ bio in Australian bookstores since around Christmas time, you’ll have noticed you can’t get it. Anywhere. What nature of fool doesn’t order enough stock of 2011′s most anticipated biography, officially Amazon’s best-selling title of the year?

Well, here’s the reason: according to a sales rep from Alliance Distribution Services, a whole container’s worth of the books – we’re talking the kind of container that causes wharfie uprisings, or gets reappropriated as a temporary inner-city bar in an obscure location – followed poor Stevie into the afterlife when the truck that was transporting them rolled. Perhaps its course was sabotaged by a Google-powered GPS system.

Image courtesy of the talented miss Nicole Firth © 2012

According to the distributor, the book will be back in stores next month. Or you could just get it as an eBook. It’s what Steve would have wanted.

1 comment   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Economy, Literature, Technology

30/12/2011

Melancholy Horses

By The Cultured Animal

There’s far too much going in Lars Von Trier’s Melancholia for me to attempt a proper critique just now. All I really want to say are two things. Well, maybe three … or four …

(For those who haven’t seen the film or are unfamiliar with its plot, all you need to know is: Justine (Kirsten Dunst) is chronically depressed and comes to stay with her sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg) on an 18-hole golf course in the country; a planet, ‘Melancholia’, has come out from its hiding place behind the sun and is now hurtling towards earth; and her father (John Hurt) likes to steal teaspoons.)

Firstly, this guy thought the cinematography sucked, but unlike Bonnie Prince Billy I’m not a cinematographer, so I’m not going to comment on that. Suffice to say, regardless of your stance on digital film vs … er … film film, Melancholia deserves to be watched in a proper cinema. Preferably a large one. I watched it in Le Grande.

Justine (Kirsten Dunst) floats down a river in her wedding gown, a reference to Shakespeare's Ophelia

John Everett Millais' famous depiction of Shakespeare's Ophelia

Melancholy Music

I will however comment on the breathtaking soundscape to the film – not the score, which was fittingly sparse, but the detailed projection of everyday noises that fill the spaces left inbetween.

I’m not sure I’ve heard a sex scene quite as real as when Justine and Michael (Alexander Skarsgard) get it on in the honeymoon suite on their wedding night. All those sloppy kiss noises and ruffling tulle … (It wasn’t even a sex scene, actually – they didn’t get very far before the melancholia butted in. Three’s a crowd.)

And I’ve never heard a galloping horse the way I heard it here, so vivid I could feel Abraham’s hooves contacting with the gravel as he moved, felt Kirsten’s heels in his ribs, felt … (I’d better not spoil this bit, it’s quite emotional.)

There are many more striking instances such as these – quiet noises made loud, little things made huge. In contrast, the sparse and mainly classical score becomes heightened in a few carefully peppered moments when it crescendos to theatrically loud levels, as in a dramatic Hollywood score of old. I have a feeling that the already much talked-about scene (in which Dunst basks naked on a river bank, under the glow of the fast-approaching planet Melancholia) will become canonised as a classic film reference. The scene is rendered all the more powerful by the careful placement here of loud, symphonic music – lasting no longer than a beat – which injects a knowing, almost comical element of meta-film into the movie.

"I already took a bath."

Also, mainstream Hollywood starlets rarely get their kit off these days, so the scene was always bound to make an impact.

These heightened musical moments, contrasted against the quieter moments – and combined with an increasingly eery, sci-fi plot development – add to a thriller-ish feel in the film’s second half. If Justine’s story (Part 1) depicts melancholia, her sister Claire’s story (Part 2) expresses anxiety. These are arguably two very ‘contemporary’ illnesses: Justine’s inability to be happy despite being swamped in buckets of money (and her wedding gown) can be read as an oblique critique of all that is wrong with the affluent West; while the impending Armageddon is a strong metaphor for contemporary fears about our climate crisis and the future of our planet. I also like the symbol of melancholia as a planet: depression is often described as a black dog that follows a person around everywhere, but this looming presence on the horizon is far more frightening, with its constant threat to obliterate all life.

Dunst drags herself through the stunning, slow-motion opening sequences

It would be wrong, however, to view Melancholia only in terms of these somewhat obvious motifs. I think there’s a lot more going on here, and it deserves at least a second viewing in order to begin to decipher its many layers.

Melancholy Muse

While Melancholia is in most respects a brilliant film, I do have just a couple of nits to pick:

If Claire and Justine are close enough sisters that one looks after the other as tenderly as she does, how is it that Claire has a British accent, while everyone else is American? I know Gainsbourg’s your muse, Lars, but you clearly don’t skimp on details much smaller than this.

Also, why doesn’t that little boy cry when he should? It was creepy. But perhaps that was intended.

Mistaken Musician

When the horses were stirring and Gainsbourg came down to calm them, I suddenly mistook her for Patti Smith, who, fittingly, prattles on about a baby sister in “Horses”. I’ve since discovered that Smith’s wonderful memoir Just Kids – one of my favourite books this year – is being rewritten for the screen, and plenty of people have already suggested Gainsbourg is ideal for the role.

Perhaps Von Trier has ambitions to direct it? Well, the book did make me cry, and there’s no denying Von Trier gets his kicks from emotional porn.

And here’s a final bit of trivia: Smith was mad keen on Rimbaud. Rimbaud wrote a poem called Ophelia. Here’s some bits of it:

On the calm black water where the stars are sleeping
White Ophelia floats like a great lily;
Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils…
… 
For more than a thousand years sad Ophelia
Has passed, a white phantom, down the long black river.
… 
The wind kisses her breasts
…
The ruffled water-lilies are sighing around her …
 

And so we have come full circle. And a very cultured circle at that.

2 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , , | posted in Film, Music

29/12/2011

The Human Side of the Iron Lady

By The Cultured Animal

Meryl is spectacular as Maggie in the new biopic of Britain’s first female Prime Minister – albeit with nicer cheekbones.

A jubilant crowd behind the just-sworn-in Thatcher, in stark contrast to scenes of public unrest later in the film, and in Thatcher's career.

The Iron Lady has a good stab at humanising one of the most important women in history. This is mainly executed through the foregrounding of present-day Thatcher: an elderly, lonely woman suffering through grief for her deceased husband and battling with dementia. It’s perhaps an obvious premise to juxtapose the frailty of old age against the formidable power of Thatcher’s former self, but it is also structurally very fitting as a film device, as her increasingly fragmented mind experiences uncontrollable flashbacks into the past. The effect is moving and real, depicting the emotional difficulties of Alzheimer’s in a way that can be related to beyond Thatcher’s story alone.

The film boasts an excellent cast, including a brilliant performance from Olivia Colman (The Office, Peep Show, etc.) as Thatcher’s daughter – complete with fake nose and posh accent – and a plethora of unexpected but pleasing cameos from the likes of Richard E. Grant and Anthony Stewart Head. Jim Broadbent is endearing as jovial husband Denis, injecting a sense of humour into Thatcher’s serious, one-woman mission.

This is a beautiful looking film full of delightful colours and contrasts, with the hair and make-up departments getting special prominence in the film’s credits (Streep had a stylist all of her own). Thatcher’s always blue outfits evoke both a sense of patriotism as well as her steely demeanour, while her juxtaposition as a single female literally swamped by a crowd of male parliamentarians is as gobsmacking as it is inspiring.

Sexism is of course touched upon, but not examined in depth as a main theme – Thatcher was a conservative after all, not a radical feminist. Her response to sexism is mostly to ignore it altogether, or simply to take it in her stride with humour and gusto. “Shall I play Mum?” she says to the US ambassador, offering him a cup of tea, shortly after her belligerent tirade asserting Britain’s refusal to budge on the Falklands, and her threat that “many men have underestimated me before.”

Though Thatcher’s vision for Britain may have been misplaced in many ways, the film expresses her sheer conviction that her “tough decisions” were right for the country, and perhaps the film‘s strongest point is its subtle critique of Britain today. It has the ageing Thatcher say to a younger admirer, “It used to be about doing something. Now it’s about being someone,” while in the opening scene she escapes her carefully guarded residence to buy a pint of milk at the corner store, and a young (black) youth rudely and impatiently pushes past her at the counter.

It is also timely, of course, to remember the violent protesting which took place under Thatcher’s government. In contrast to this year’s riots, which were variously described as individualist, purposeless acts of violence and greed, the tumult during Thatcher’s era was far more overtly political. Present-day Britain is thus depicted as a product of the vacuousness and destructiveness of the cult of individualism that plagues the West today.

Which is more than a little bit ironic, given Thatcher’s belief that “there is no such thing as society”, and that placing accountability with the individual is the key to a prosperous Britain.

My friend commented on how apolitical this film is, but I wonder.

And then there’s this.

1 comment   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in Economy, Fashion, Film, Politics

15/12/2011

Review: Brous EP Launch

By The Cultured Animal

For those who haven’t yet heard of Brous (pronounced like Bruce – yes, I know, kind of takes the Frenchy chic out of it), this Melbourne singer is a formidable and rising talent. Having directed the Melbourne International Jazz Festival for the last three years, Sophia Brous exudes a presence and charisma on stage well beyond her 26 years. On Saturday November 12th she released her self-titled EP to a sold-out crowd at the newly opened Sydney Road venue, Phoenix Public House (formerly The Spot).

Physically slight, one could compare Brous to Amy Winehouse: they share a Jewish background, as well as a penchant for striking, cat-like eye make-up – although of course Brous is far from a train wreck on stage. Decked out in a bright blue vintage dress, impressively large beaded earrings, voluminously styled long hair, and black velvet heels that make her legs go on forever, Brous’ aesthetic style follows in the vintage chic of singers like Winehouse, Adele or Duffy – but the hole in her stockings adds a touch of quintessentially Melbourne grunge.

Vocally Brous has excellent control of her impressive range, and sounds something like Kate Bush mixed with the creative, unconventional song writing of French singer Camille. Rather than use a pedal for vocal reverb, she opts instead to switch between two mics – one with reverb and the other without – allowing not only a more organic control of the sound, but also a more visual representation of the musicianship at work. Brous flits expertly between her powerful lead lines and something a little more unexpected, using the reverb-laden mic to deliver esoteric, wordless melodies full of so much vibrato they sound like a theramin. It’s an eerie effect, used just enough to give her music a very distinctive sound without verging on being gimmicky. She also does a pretty amazing whistle solo.

Brous’ accompanying band on the night was a strong fit-out, delivering stripped back arrangements that complemented perfectly the main event of her vocals. Unfortunately the strings section could barely be heard during their first song, although this was corrected towards the end of the performance. Guest appearances from Conrad Standish (of UK band The Devastations) and La Voce Della Luna choir of Italian grandmothers (who also feature on the most recent single from her EP, “Little Ticket”) were welcome additions to the evening.

If there were any let-downs on the night they were not so much the fault of Brous and her ensemble as much as to teething problems at this new, but promising, venue. If you missed out this time, be sure to catch this captivating performer in future, or listen to her self-titled EP – a fine recording that does justice to her talent as both singer and composer.

This review first appeared in Beat Magazine

2 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , , , , | posted in Music

07/11/2011

Music Round-Up 2011

By The Cultured Animal

I know we’ve still got several weeks to go, but soon everyone else is going to start putting out their best-of lists so, in the interest of being a competitive bitch and trying to get ahead of trends (as in, Easter eggs the week after Christmas, July sales in June, and so on), here’s my take on music releases from some of my favourite artists in 2011, and whether they delivered the goods.

Nay:

Kitty Daisy & Lewis, Beirut, Ryan Adams (ugh!), Wilco (still love youse, but) and Gillian Welch all managed to disappoint in one way or another, some more so than others. They’ve done better’s all I’m saying.

Yay:

Joan as Policewoman and Bonnie “Prince” Billy (what diction!), you most certainly did not. That is to say, didn’t disappoint, and I couldn’t say they’ve done better either. This is some damn fine stuff right here.

Why:

KDL: Well, I think with a title like Smoking in Heaven it’s safe to say the little tykes have probably discovered marijuana, which might go some way to explaining the ten-minute jam songs during which absolutely fuck-all interesting happens. There are some really catchy bits on the album, though. It’s kind of like op-shopping – you have to wade through a bunch of crap until you find some absolute gems. (An appropriate metaphor for their retro fetishism.)

AND THIS IS WHAT WE MEAN BY RETRO:

Beirut: Actually, it’s probably not fair to say The Rip Tide is a disappointing album. It’s only that I noticed the searing melancholy so pertinent to their sound seems to have softened a little, and I guess I like a sad-faced crooner. Dammit, how dare these artistic fuck-ups get their shit together!

Ryan: This should have been no surprise – ever since he’s been a happily married invalid he writes sentimental pap. Oh wait, he’s always done that … but now it just doesn’t sound as good. Perhaps the tinnitus problem is interfering.*

Wilco: I swear, stable marriage is the great destroyer of all good art. I didn’t fancy the last album either, and yet still I donate to the ongoing cause that is Wilco. I guess a part of me wishes Jeff Tweedy were my Dad. Hats off to them also for disowning a big record company and going their own way. They trust in their fans to trust in them. The album is called The Whole Love. Still feelin’ the love, even if I only listened to it twice.

Gillian: I know many people disagree with me on this one. And maybe The Harrow and the Harvest really is a terrific album – I just can’t tell anymore. I think what happened is it was such a long wait between albums that when I finally got it I overplayed it just a tad (read: ten times a day for ten days straight), went through some incredibly mind-blowing existential transformation, thought that I might need to either commit suicide or take up a heroin habit, started to hate my obviously unhealthy dependency on the album – kind of like when a relationship turns sour – and now I can’t bear to be anywhere near its beautiful face. But I guess that’s the way the corn bread crumbles, that’s the way the whole thing ends.

Joan: Really, this woman is off the planet. Each album sounds completely alien and weird and, upon first listen, tends to make me think the previous one was better. Until of course I listen to it a bit more, and a bit more again, and then see this:

The best music is always the kind that grows on you.

The B-Boy: Even though he looks like a balding garden gnome who’s been stung by a jellyfish in the face, I would still marry this man. Fuck birds in the bushes, let’s take ‘em in hand.

A disclaimer: I’m terribly sorry Mr William Callahan, but I didn’t get around to listening to your latest. Is that wrong? Perhaps you should also count your blessings and be glad I didn’t download it illegally, robbing you of your hard-earned lunch money. Baked beans on toast, I imagine.

Another disclaimer: I’m sorry about all the swearing. Really. It’s poor form. I heard somewhere that controversial blogs get more hits. But if you think about it, swearing’s not really very controversial. Nor does this theory have anything to do with how rich my swear jar is. Spending too much time around my family is a much more likely theory. (Oh gosh, now I need to add yet another disclaimer, or apologia, or … how about you just watch that KDL clip again?)

…

*Dear Mr Adams. I have crossed over. I have become an arsehole who thinks it’s fine to write horrible things about celebrities, as if they are not real people, and will never read any of the things other people write about them, even though they surely browse the interwebs as much as everyone else. In fact, Mr YouTube whore, I think you do so more than some. Is my nasty detachment due in some part to me falling out of fandom with you? Perhaps. But you should count your blessings and be glad that this once wasn’t true. (Oh and by the way, I’m really sorry for being pissed off after watching you at The Palais a few years ago because it was really dark on stage and you were hiding behind your hair and I couldn’t see anything and I thought it was a bad concert and wrote you off as an Emo twat. It turns out you were probably really sick. You did make some pretty funny jokes about prescription drugs, though.)

2 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , , , | posted in Music

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