The new issue is here! It has lots of lovely things in it, such as an interview with a Glasgow city councillor, the problems of high art, and a comparison of British and American sport.
Monday, 8 March 2010
Theatre - The Gilding Room
The Gilding Room is a one-woman performance “responding to the music video as both cultural icon and corruptive influence.” On entering, I behold a lady stood waiting, stock still, in a bodysock (like tights, but for the whole body), an envious floor-length gold satin dressing gown and a pair of heels. White noise is playing in the background. It takes a good ten minutes or so until the whole audience is seated in the tiny, dark studio room, and her stillness, the noise and the silence of everything else is starting to get intense already. This kind of conceptual art worries me, because I don’t know if I’m just not getting something, or if I’m getting it, I just don’t understand why it’s there. Needless to say, I wasn’t expecting anything good.
The lights turn off and the performer starts to do a couple of stretchy things; before long we are witnessing a mimed re-enactment of Kate Bush’s ‘Wow’ video, and as the music starts to falter the performer carries on, oblivious to everything except for her own involvement in the song. A couple of make-up changes and an exercise ball set us up for the next ‘video’ sees a violently involved performance, ending in her being brought back into reality by a fall. The rest of the performance was essentially audience and performer staring at a false lit up TV screen until the end of time, before she finally, finally rips the screen away to reveal gold paint and disillusionment.
What I want to say about this performance was that it proved to me that I was wrong in my preconceptions of conceptual art. Yes, it was weird and yes, it left me kind of baffled. But the performer was exceptional, the whole idea and the way it was done made sense If you want to be shocked by liking something you want to mock, see The Gilding Room. And, besides, I don’t think anybody else could have pulled off a bodysock quite as well as her. Emma Bainbridge
The lights turn off and the performer starts to do a couple of stretchy things; before long we are witnessing a mimed re-enactment of Kate Bush’s ‘Wow’ video, and as the music starts to falter the performer carries on, oblivious to everything except for her own involvement in the song. A couple of make-up changes and an exercise ball set us up for the next ‘video’ sees a violently involved performance, ending in her being brought back into reality by a fall. The rest of the performance was essentially audience and performer staring at a false lit up TV screen until the end of time, before she finally, finally rips the screen away to reveal gold paint and disillusionment.
What I want to say about this performance was that it proved to me that I was wrong in my preconceptions of conceptual art. Yes, it was weird and yes, it left me kind of baffled. But the performer was exceptional, the whole idea and the way it was done made sense If you want to be shocked by liking something you want to mock, see The Gilding Room. And, besides, I don’t think anybody else could have pulled off a bodysock quite as well as her. Emma Bainbridge
Glasgow Student Dance Company - Mardi Gras Movements 19/02/10
So you think you can dance? Glasgow Student Dance Company’s latest offering, ‘Mardi Gras Movements’, certainly seemed to believe so. The show, which is the result of six months’ rehearsals by the company, changed venue this year to the smaller and more intimate setting of the Scottish Youth Theatre. Yet in these fairly intense surroundings where even the smallest error could have been easily noted, the company of over sixty dancers pulled off a repertoire of no less than fourteen dances confidently and with style.
The show began with a dynamic group performance filled with energy which set the tone for the evening. The dancing throughout the evening emerged from a range of inspirations including Bollywood and tap. Nothing emphasised this eclectic range of talent better than the juxtaposition of an almost frenetic hip-hop solo followed by an elegant classical ballet performed with grace to emotive music.
Although some dances began in an admittedly slightly lacklustre way, most managed to pull it together with a twist in the choreography – such as the use of props in what was assumed to be just another disco-inspired performance. Colourful costumes and very little visible error also contributed to the overall impression that this was a well-rehearsed, well-orchestrated show.
One of the highlights of the show was the impressive Chicago-inspired ‘He Had It Coming’ which mimicked elements of the hit film and show to create an energetic display of creativity and movement. In other memorable moments, classical ballet with a contemporary interpretative twist combined with well-timed lighting. Music was cut in one dance to emphasise the starkness of the dancers’ toes tapping – an innovative and exciting display of precision.
Any doubts about the divided nature of the show’s programme – of fourteen separate dances – were soon erased, as the evening was pulled together by a combination of mixed styles keeping things dynamic, inventive choreography, and, of course, the talent and energy of the dancers. Katie McQuater
Film Reviews - Glasgow Film Festival
Friends With Benefits
Friends With Benefits, directed by Gorman Bechard, is the story of six friends at college in America. They start to realise that being friends, with something a little bit more, is maybe the best way to have a relationship. The film comes to the Glasgow Film Festival after debuting at the Seattle True Independent Film Festival in 2009.
Bechard, before writing and directing Friends with Benefits had written many novels and it can be clearly seen by the innovative directing style that is used. The film plays itself out as if it is a moving book, with chapters and the like. The film often resembles last year’s sleeper hit, (500) Days of Summer, yet to see it as an imitation is not fair to Bechard, who at the same time has managed to create his own unique style. What is more, Bechard’s style lends some artistic style from acclaimed director Ang Lee, making it work to perfection: it feels as if it truly fits with the characters and the story that is presented.
Although the plot may not be the most original you will ever see, Bechard is able to put a fresh, quirky, funny slant on something that a lesser writer or director would have failed to do. In fact, Bechard’s ability to make corny ideas feel new is to his credit and the benefit of the film. The story is a very modern way of looking at the way in which people in their twenties deal with love, relationships and sex. A 21st century American Pie to the extent that some of the characters feel like the American Pie cast’s younger siblings. For example, the film has its own Finch and Stifler with a less combustible relationship.
The true genius of this film is the strength of the script that provides the viewer with six believable, likable characters that by the end of the film, the viewer is urging them onto get what they want. Although the basic idea may not be the most innovative thing seen at this year’s film festival; the style it is produced in is, and this is what makes it a must-see. A stylish, new take on a love story.
[Luke James]
Hidden Diary
As a lover of French cinema, I was automatically drawn to Hidden Diary with its stellar cast and a promise of subtle, meaningful drama. It did not fail to satisfy, with each member of the cast performing the thought-provoking story with excellent fragility.
Hidden Diary is about Audrey (Marina Hands of Lady Chatterley fame), who returns home to France from her hectic life as an engineer in Toronto to clear her head and decide what to do about her unplanned pregnancy. Within minutes of her arrival at the family home the difficult relationship between Audrey and her mother, Martine (Catherine Deneuve), becomes apparent; Martine is haughty towards her daughter for arriving unawares and outwardly rejects Audrey's gift of a digital camera. After numerous attempts of working in the house (which also acts as Martine's doctors surgery) Audrey decides to relocate to her grandfather's house, which has been vacant since his death some years previously. Wanting to improve the dated house and make it more hospitable, Audrey buys some mod-cons for the kitchen and whilst doing so uncovers her grandmother's, Louise (Marie-Josee Croze from Tell No One), diary. The discovery of the diary causes Audrey to pries open emotions which Martine has wished to ignore since Louise abandoned her and her brother when they were children. As more is revealed about Louise's situation, her reasons for leaving and the circumstances of her disappearance, an altogether different theory about her disappearance becomes apparent.
As the events of the narrative are slowly revealed the film, tactfully addresses the issues of individuals' perceptions, the role of women and their right to freedom but most of all the complicated relationship between mothers and daughters. Hidden Diary is both realistic and insightful. It does not handle the sensitive subjects with the melodrama which an American blockbuster would, but instead they are handled with delicacy and allowing the story to develop. Legendary Catherine Deneuve portrays the role of Martine to perfection; outwardly she conveys a woman who has strongly battled without a mother and shows little signs of how it has affected her, but behind the stern mask there are glimpses of a scared child and a fragile woman. The revelations emerge gradually throughout the film, allowing the audience to deduce the meanings of the events and its consequences, instead of pounding them out at a pace which confuses and alienates the audience. Of course this slow pace can make the film seem a little dull at times and doesn't allow you to emotionally connect with the characters, however, the realistic timescale of events does allow you to think and reflect about the issues which emerge as the film goes on.
Although far from perfection, Hidden Diary is a film which handles sensitive issues with grace and patience, and although not necessarily entertaining it is a rewarding film to watch.
[Laura Crean]
Evangelion
As part of the Glasgow Film Festival, the GFT was showing Evangelion 1.0: You Are (Not) and Evangelion 2.0 You Can (Not) Proceed Alone, the second being its UK premiere. As the speaker explained to the audience before the films started, Evangelion was originally a Japanese television series started in 1995 to be the adult answer to the current trend in modern anime; the final word on giant robots. However, towards the end of the series, the show’s helmer Hideaki Anno became increasingly depressed, and the show began to lose its traditional narrative structure, posing more questions than it answers. Thus in 2006 it was announced to the glee of international fervent fans that the same team would remake the series as a trilogy of feature-length movies. Hence the fevered excitement of the showings, being the only time UK fans could see them on the big screen, with the all important Japanese language version with English subtitles.
The films are set in the near future of 2015, in Tokyo-3, a city designed to repel the attacks of the Angels, alien beings that have been attacking earth since the second impact, named after the first that destroyed the dinosaurs. Evangelion’s main character Shinji, is the pilot of Eva 1, the second model of experimental giant robots by Nerv, the company whose business it is to defend the earth. He starts the first movie very introspective and self-pitying however as the films progress he finds his confidence, the films are about Shinji’s salvation as much as earth’s. The film looks absolutely beautiful, jumping from the horrific to the light-hearted without losing sense of its own artistic style. The complexities of the films often arise from the nature of the Evas, which are not merely robots but have an inner animalistic core, which the pilots tap into thus risking their own humanity while piloting them. Much as the show does, the films become both darker and more confusing at the end, where the audience finds it harder to discern between reality and the metaphorical and psychological aspects of the movies. Nevertheless, these films stand proud among the finest instances of cinematic anime, and add artistic and emotional context to the genre of big stompy robot movies.
[Tobi Wilson]
Kakera
If you feel like you need to re-evaluate yourself, if you’re feeling a bit lost or if you want to curl up in the dark and absorb yourself in somebody else’s life, then watch this film. If you just want to see a brilliantly done, emotionally moving and thought-provoking movie, then also watch this film. Momoko Ando’s directorial debut, Kakera: A Piece of our Lives, follows the story of two girls, Haru and Riko, over the course of a few months of their lives. The two girls meet by chance in a café when Riko, who does not like to see opportunities pass her by, strikes up conversation with the somewhat introverted student Haru.
Haru is having problems with her boyfriend, and as we see the relationship between the two girls evolve we also see the torment caused by confusion over love, sex and a lack of freedom. Like all films, there are some parts of Kakera that don’t make an awful lot of sense (soda bottle turning into a two-headed dove, anyone?), but this doesn’t detract from the fact that this film will make you re-think what you’re doing with your life, and only make you wish you’d seen it sooner.
[Emma Bainbridge]
Friends With Benefits, directed by Gorman Bechard, is the story of six friends at college in America. They start to realise that being friends, with something a little bit more, is maybe the best way to have a relationship. The film comes to the Glasgow Film Festival after debuting at the Seattle True Independent Film Festival in 2009.
Bechard, before writing and directing Friends with Benefits had written many novels and it can be clearly seen by the innovative directing style that is used. The film plays itself out as if it is a moving book, with chapters and the like. The film often resembles last year’s sleeper hit, (500) Days of Summer, yet to see it as an imitation is not fair to Bechard, who at the same time has managed to create his own unique style. What is more, Bechard’s style lends some artistic style from acclaimed director Ang Lee, making it work to perfection: it feels as if it truly fits with the characters and the story that is presented.
Although the plot may not be the most original you will ever see, Bechard is able to put a fresh, quirky, funny slant on something that a lesser writer or director would have failed to do. In fact, Bechard’s ability to make corny ideas feel new is to his credit and the benefit of the film. The story is a very modern way of looking at the way in which people in their twenties deal with love, relationships and sex. A 21st century American Pie to the extent that some of the characters feel like the American Pie cast’s younger siblings. For example, the film has its own Finch and Stifler with a less combustible relationship.
The true genius of this film is the strength of the script that provides the viewer with six believable, likable characters that by the end of the film, the viewer is urging them onto get what they want. Although the basic idea may not be the most innovative thing seen at this year’s film festival; the style it is produced in is, and this is what makes it a must-see. A stylish, new take on a love story.
[Luke James]
Hidden Diary
As a lover of French cinema, I was automatically drawn to Hidden Diary with its stellar cast and a promise of subtle, meaningful drama. It did not fail to satisfy, with each member of the cast performing the thought-provoking story with excellent fragility.
Hidden Diary is about Audrey (Marina Hands of Lady Chatterley fame), who returns home to France from her hectic life as an engineer in Toronto to clear her head and decide what to do about her unplanned pregnancy. Within minutes of her arrival at the family home the difficult relationship between Audrey and her mother, Martine (Catherine Deneuve), becomes apparent; Martine is haughty towards her daughter for arriving unawares and outwardly rejects Audrey's gift of a digital camera. After numerous attempts of working in the house (which also acts as Martine's doctors surgery) Audrey decides to relocate to her grandfather's house, which has been vacant since his death some years previously. Wanting to improve the dated house and make it more hospitable, Audrey buys some mod-cons for the kitchen and whilst doing so uncovers her grandmother's, Louise (Marie-Josee Croze from Tell No One), diary. The discovery of the diary causes Audrey to pries open emotions which Martine has wished to ignore since Louise abandoned her and her brother when they were children. As more is revealed about Louise's situation, her reasons for leaving and the circumstances of her disappearance, an altogether different theory about her disappearance becomes apparent.
As the events of the narrative are slowly revealed the film, tactfully addresses the issues of individuals' perceptions, the role of women and their right to freedom but most of all the complicated relationship between mothers and daughters. Hidden Diary is both realistic and insightful. It does not handle the sensitive subjects with the melodrama which an American blockbuster would, but instead they are handled with delicacy and allowing the story to develop. Legendary Catherine Deneuve portrays the role of Martine to perfection; outwardly she conveys a woman who has strongly battled without a mother and shows little signs of how it has affected her, but behind the stern mask there are glimpses of a scared child and a fragile woman. The revelations emerge gradually throughout the film, allowing the audience to deduce the meanings of the events and its consequences, instead of pounding them out at a pace which confuses and alienates the audience. Of course this slow pace can make the film seem a little dull at times and doesn't allow you to emotionally connect with the characters, however, the realistic timescale of events does allow you to think and reflect about the issues which emerge as the film goes on.
Although far from perfection, Hidden Diary is a film which handles sensitive issues with grace and patience, and although not necessarily entertaining it is a rewarding film to watch.
[Laura Crean]
Evangelion
As part of the Glasgow Film Festival, the GFT was showing Evangelion 1.0: You Are (Not) and Evangelion 2.0 You Can (Not) Proceed Alone, the second being its UK premiere. As the speaker explained to the audience before the films started, Evangelion was originally a Japanese television series started in 1995 to be the adult answer to the current trend in modern anime; the final word on giant robots. However, towards the end of the series, the show’s helmer Hideaki Anno became increasingly depressed, and the show began to lose its traditional narrative structure, posing more questions than it answers. Thus in 2006 it was announced to the glee of international fervent fans that the same team would remake the series as a trilogy of feature-length movies. Hence the fevered excitement of the showings, being the only time UK fans could see them on the big screen, with the all important Japanese language version with English subtitles.
The films are set in the near future of 2015, in Tokyo-3, a city designed to repel the attacks of the Angels, alien beings that have been attacking earth since the second impact, named after the first that destroyed the dinosaurs. Evangelion’s main character Shinji, is the pilot of Eva 1, the second model of experimental giant robots by Nerv, the company whose business it is to defend the earth. He starts the first movie very introspective and self-pitying however as the films progress he finds his confidence, the films are about Shinji’s salvation as much as earth’s. The film looks absolutely beautiful, jumping from the horrific to the light-hearted without losing sense of its own artistic style. The complexities of the films often arise from the nature of the Evas, which are not merely robots but have an inner animalistic core, which the pilots tap into thus risking their own humanity while piloting them. Much as the show does, the films become both darker and more confusing at the end, where the audience finds it harder to discern between reality and the metaphorical and psychological aspects of the movies. Nevertheless, these films stand proud among the finest instances of cinematic anime, and add artistic and emotional context to the genre of big stompy robot movies.
[Tobi Wilson]
Kakera
If you feel like you need to re-evaluate yourself, if you’re feeling a bit lost or if you want to curl up in the dark and absorb yourself in somebody else’s life, then watch this film. If you just want to see a brilliantly done, emotionally moving and thought-provoking movie, then also watch this film. Momoko Ando’s directorial debut, Kakera: A Piece of our Lives, follows the story of two girls, Haru and Riko, over the course of a few months of their lives. The two girls meet by chance in a café when Riko, who does not like to see opportunities pass her by, strikes up conversation with the somewhat introverted student Haru.
Haru is having problems with her boyfriend, and as we see the relationship between the two girls evolve we also see the torment caused by confusion over love, sex and a lack of freedom. Like all films, there are some parts of Kakera that don’t make an awful lot of sense (soda bottle turning into a two-headed dove, anyone?), but this doesn’t detract from the fact that this film will make you re-think what you’re doing with your life, and only make you wish you’d seen it sooner.
[Emma Bainbridge]
Monday, 1 March 2010
Win Tickets to Hinterland 2010!
Evening all,
The lovely people over at Hinterland Festival have been kind enough to give us two tickets to giveaway for their event on 3rd April: headline acts include Mystery Jets, Jeffrey Lewis and British Sea Power, and it's safe to say it will be pretty bloody awesome. To be in with a chance to win them, simply email us at qmunicate.magazine@gmail.com or comment on this post with the best reason you can think of as to why you deserve the tickets, keeping it to a maximum of 140 characters. The winner will be announced within the next two weeks, so get a move on!
For those who miss out, Hinterland is also running a limited number of reduced price tickets from their website at www.thehinterlandfestival.com, priced at £10.
Cheers
Iain
The lovely people over at Hinterland Festival have been kind enough to give us two tickets to giveaway for their event on 3rd April: headline acts include Mystery Jets, Jeffrey Lewis and British Sea Power, and it's safe to say it will be pretty bloody awesome. To be in with a chance to win them, simply email us at qmunicate.magazine@gmail.com or comment on this post with the best reason you can think of as to why you deserve the tickets, keeping it to a maximum of 140 characters. The winner will be announced within the next two weeks, so get a move on!
For those who miss out, Hinterland is also running a limited number of reduced price tickets from their website at www.thehinterlandfestival.com, priced at £10.
Cheers
Iain
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
qmunicate issue 76 - 22nd February
Remember you can download the full issue as a pdf by following the "powered by issuu" link and clicking download at the top of the page.
Monday, 22 February 2010
America: Just Doing It Better?
The Americans have always and will always be masters of spectacle (they need something to make up for the painful lack of history). You only really need to do a cursory comparison between what passes for an event of social importance here and what our North Atlantic cousins do to notice that what we have here in Britain is severly lacking in show and spectacle.
The last few weeks have been hideously busy. You see, I'm not the biggest fan of competitive sport but recently my free time has been filled to the gunnels with a series of world class, and a number of definite second class, sporting events.
Last weekend saw perhaps the biggest weekend of testosterone filled man bashing we are likely see to see for some time. Both the start of 6 nations rugby and, the largest sporting event in the American calendar, the 44th Superbowl. I had the personal misfortune of viewing Scotland's woeful performance against a vastly superior France. It wasn't just the lack of basic handling or the fact that I have seen pensioners in palliative care move with more grace and speed than Scotland's backs. No, it was the basic lack of enthusiasm and spectacle that accompanied Scotland's first game on their home turf. The Flower Of Scotland instead of rousing the fans behind a beleaguered Scottish first 15 floated around Murrayfield like the mournful sobs of a widower in a double bed that now seems cold and empty - except more heartbreaking. Even the cries of "Allez les bleus" from the victorious French fans lacked the enthusiasm that was seen later that same day just a hop skip and a jump across the pond.
The Superbowl isn't a sporting event as you would understand it if you've spent the winter months huddled in the stands of Pittodrie or Ibrox. It's a bonanza of American culture - the high altar to the two mains strands of contemporary America, a ruthless commitment to the free market and a loyalty to both the nation and state which can only normally found in lap dogs or services for which you have parted with a fair bit of cash in one of your cities seedier districts. Caustic cynicism aside, the Superbowl is how sporting events should be run. Sections of play are served in short bursts which builds tension for fans and makes sure casual viewers don't become bored. It's also quite handy to be able to go for a drink or take a slash at regular intervals. All in all the spectacle is fantastic, and despite the fact that the Superbowl is the representation of so much that is wrong with modern America, it's also the biggest and most entertaining sporting event I've ever watched.
In the entertainment world things are quickly reaching fever pitch as awards season picks up. Media hacks everywhere are already whipping themselves into a fury as the try to guess the colour of a dress that some here-today, gone-tomorrow starlet will wear. This is a fantastic opportunity for a direct comparison between the glitz and glamour of Hollywood and the far more down to earth, and therefore shite, nature of British celebrity occasions. At the time of writing, the BAFTAs are just over a week away. I won’t be watching. I have literally no interest in watching as we haul out Stephen Fry for the millionth time so he can exchange dubious banter with the gay guy from Corrie while the cameraman focuses on the blond one from Emmerdale's double Ds. The whole thing feels four vodka lemonades from a dirty weekend of dogging in Blackpool – with your gay grandad. The Oscars, on the other hand, make you feel genuinely aspirational. Disgusted with your own bloated shell which you call a body, but aspirational. They still won’t give the right awards to the right people, but at least you leave the evening feeling disgusted with yourself and not with the entire entertainment output of a nation.
But things are looking up I suppose. In line with current thinking on entertainment, Britain has shifted a number of high-profile American sports into cities across the country. For us weegies (or those trapped here with us) the closest access to the spectacle that is American sporting events is the Glasgow Rocks. Immediately if you're anything like as painfully cynical as I am your thoughts will turn to something along the lines of "what a load of pish", but surprisingly, going to watch the Rocks is the perfect mix of British rage -you can still scream at the players- and the American - each timeout is accompanied by the Rockquettes. Unsurprisingly, the Rocks got beat, but with clips from Braveheart pummelling my ears and the classy dancing of the Rockquettes, I barely noticed a thing.
Oliver Milne
The last few weeks have been hideously busy. You see, I'm not the biggest fan of competitive sport but recently my free time has been filled to the gunnels with a series of world class, and a number of definite second class, sporting events.
Last weekend saw perhaps the biggest weekend of testosterone filled man bashing we are likely see to see for some time. Both the start of 6 nations rugby and, the largest sporting event in the American calendar, the 44th Superbowl. I had the personal misfortune of viewing Scotland's woeful performance against a vastly superior France. It wasn't just the lack of basic handling or the fact that I have seen pensioners in palliative care move with more grace and speed than Scotland's backs. No, it was the basic lack of enthusiasm and spectacle that accompanied Scotland's first game on their home turf. The Flower Of Scotland instead of rousing the fans behind a beleaguered Scottish first 15 floated around Murrayfield like the mournful sobs of a widower in a double bed that now seems cold and empty - except more heartbreaking. Even the cries of "Allez les bleus" from the victorious French fans lacked the enthusiasm that was seen later that same day just a hop skip and a jump across the pond.
The Superbowl isn't a sporting event as you would understand it if you've spent the winter months huddled in the stands of Pittodrie or Ibrox. It's a bonanza of American culture - the high altar to the two mains strands of contemporary America, a ruthless commitment to the free market and a loyalty to both the nation and state which can only normally found in lap dogs or services for which you have parted with a fair bit of cash in one of your cities seedier districts. Caustic cynicism aside, the Superbowl is how sporting events should be run. Sections of play are served in short bursts which builds tension for fans and makes sure casual viewers don't become bored. It's also quite handy to be able to go for a drink or take a slash at regular intervals. All in all the spectacle is fantastic, and despite the fact that the Superbowl is the representation of so much that is wrong with modern America, it's also the biggest and most entertaining sporting event I've ever watched.
In the entertainment world things are quickly reaching fever pitch as awards season picks up. Media hacks everywhere are already whipping themselves into a fury as the try to guess the colour of a dress that some here-today, gone-tomorrow starlet will wear. This is a fantastic opportunity for a direct comparison between the glitz and glamour of Hollywood and the far more down to earth, and therefore shite, nature of British celebrity occasions. At the time of writing, the BAFTAs are just over a week away. I won’t be watching. I have literally no interest in watching as we haul out Stephen Fry for the millionth time so he can exchange dubious banter with the gay guy from Corrie while the cameraman focuses on the blond one from Emmerdale's double Ds. The whole thing feels four vodka lemonades from a dirty weekend of dogging in Blackpool – with your gay grandad. The Oscars, on the other hand, make you feel genuinely aspirational. Disgusted with your own bloated shell which you call a body, but aspirational. They still won’t give the right awards to the right people, but at least you leave the evening feeling disgusted with yourself and not with the entire entertainment output of a nation.
But things are looking up I suppose. In line with current thinking on entertainment, Britain has shifted a number of high-profile American sports into cities across the country. For us weegies (or those trapped here with us) the closest access to the spectacle that is American sporting events is the Glasgow Rocks. Immediately if you're anything like as painfully cynical as I am your thoughts will turn to something along the lines of "what a load of pish", but surprisingly, going to watch the Rocks is the perfect mix of British rage -you can still scream at the players- and the American - each timeout is accompanied by the Rockquettes. Unsurprisingly, the Rocks got beat, but with clips from Braveheart pummelling my ears and the classy dancing of the Rockquettes, I barely noticed a thing.
Oliver Milne
New QM Charity - Mary's Meals
Mary’s Meals: a simple solution to world hunger that works.
The QM has chosen Mary’s Meals as its new charity for this semester. The decision was reached in a committee meeting on Monday where there was a vote between Mary’s Meals and the GU Red Cross society. The selected charity works with local communities in places where the world’s poorest children are found, such as Romania, Malawi and Haiti and works under the doctrine that every child who goes to school should be given a meal. The charity sets up an infrastructure so that the food given to a school child is locally produced. This means that the scheme is not only beneficial to the child but also to their community, boosting the local economy.
The charity, which is based here in Scotland, began work in 2002 feeding 200 orphans in Malawi; in the last decade the operation has expanded to now providing a daily school dinner for over 375,000 children worldwide. By providing food, Mary’s Meals hopes to increase the number of children who can go to school and learn effectively. An education can set a child free from poverty, not only for this generation but for their children in the future too. It takes as little as £6.15 to feed a child going to school for an entire year in Malawi and on average about £9 to fund each individual child involved in the scheme.
The charity is currently running a campaign called the backpack project, in which people are invited to fill a backpack with things that a child would need to go to school. To find out more, the Mary’s Meals website is www.marysmeals.org. For information on getting involved with the GU Red Cross society, please contact gurc@redcross.org.uk. Support and Services committee is held in the Board Room (3rd Floor) at the QM on Mondays at 5:00.
Daren Swandell
The QM has chosen Mary’s Meals as its new charity for this semester. The decision was reached in a committee meeting on Monday where there was a vote between Mary’s Meals and the GU Red Cross society. The selected charity works with local communities in places where the world’s poorest children are found, such as Romania, Malawi and Haiti and works under the doctrine that every child who goes to school should be given a meal. The charity sets up an infrastructure so that the food given to a school child is locally produced. This means that the scheme is not only beneficial to the child but also to their community, boosting the local economy.
The charity, which is based here in Scotland, began work in 2002 feeding 200 orphans in Malawi; in the last decade the operation has expanded to now providing a daily school dinner for over 375,000 children worldwide. By providing food, Mary’s Meals hopes to increase the number of children who can go to school and learn effectively. An education can set a child free from poverty, not only for this generation but for their children in the future too. It takes as little as £6.15 to feed a child going to school for an entire year in Malawi and on average about £9 to fund each individual child involved in the scheme.
The charity is currently running a campaign called the backpack project, in which people are invited to fill a backpack with things that a child would need to go to school. To find out more, the Mary’s Meals website is www.marysmeals.org. For information on getting involved with the GU Red Cross society, please contact gurc@redcross.org.uk. Support and Services committee is held in the Board Room (3rd Floor) at the QM on Mondays at 5:00.
Daren Swandell
Interview: The Drums
You may or may not have heard of The Drums – I know I hadn’t until a few weeks ago – but on listening to their hit ‘Let’s Go Surfing’, you couldn’t fail to be impressed by their catchy lyrics and poppy rhythms. Named #5 on the BBC’s Sound of 2010 list, the Brooklyn-based four-piece have gained growing popularity thanks to their Beach Boys-esque sound and the boundless energy in their live shows, resulting in them joining the likes of The Big Pink, Bombay Bicycle Club and The Maccabees for this year’s sell out NME tour. I met vocalist Jonathan Pierce and guitarist Adam Kessler after the gig to discuss their inspiration, their future plans and their new-found fame.
Surprisingly, the band’s fame was not so much an aspiration as something that happened as the result of a shared project between the foursome. Jonathan tells us that he saw them as a band that would have been happy ‘just putting out a couple of 7” vinyls.’ Adam insists though, ‘It was definitely a planned thing. We planned to do a studio project called The Drums.’ However, it is evident that the band never expected to get as far as they have done. Before starting up The Drums in late 2008, members had been involved in various musical projects, including Jonathan and Adam’s band Elkland. ‘We were all in bands when we were younger, when we were teenagers,’ says Adam casually. ‘We’ve all been in and out of bands.’
But they seem to have hit the nail on the head with this one. The sound of their music is influenced by the clean sounds of 1950’s pop music, and bands such as The Wake. Jonathan tells us that they aren’t so much inspired as have a desire to ‘bring back pop’ and give it the name that it used to have. ‘People’s perception of pop has changed,’ he says. ‘We want to bring it back to sounds like The Smiths and Orange Juice.’ As for their new-found fame, it seems to still be a bit of a shock to the system, after working jobs such as shoe salesman, Disneyland security guard, carpenter and barman. In fact, Jonathan reveals, ‘when we go home, Jacob [guitarist] bartends for free, just to have some kind of normality,’ comparing him to Stevie Nicks who, at the height of her fame, kept a New York apartment with a mattress on the floor like she had when she was just starting out, in order to keep some ground under her feet.
For now, though, The Drums are too busy touring the country to bartend. ‘It is exciting,’ Jonathan tells us. ‘This feels like our tour, like our time.’ And even the first couple of days have been eventful, with them kicking off in Newcastle and inadvertently hitting a fan in the head with a tambourine, before travelling on to our glorious city of Glasgow. ‘It was really nice coming in, just seeing all these castles on the skyline,’ says Jonathan on their journey up here. ‘We haven’t had chance to see much of it, but I took a walk round the square out here. I’d like to write an album here. It seems like a good place to write an album.’ Not quite Florida, the inspiration behind their last album, but hey, you never know.
However, after spending a good fifteen minutes talking about nothing much, their lovely manager Sean comes and tells us to wrap it up. I manage to get a brief look to the future before we part though, and ask where they think they’ll be in five years, to an agreed response – ‘Probably dead.’
Emma Bainbridge
Surprisingly, the band’s fame was not so much an aspiration as something that happened as the result of a shared project between the foursome. Jonathan tells us that he saw them as a band that would have been happy ‘just putting out a couple of 7” vinyls.’ Adam insists though, ‘It was definitely a planned thing. We planned to do a studio project called The Drums.’ However, it is evident that the band never expected to get as far as they have done. Before starting up The Drums in late 2008, members had been involved in various musical projects, including Jonathan and Adam’s band Elkland. ‘We were all in bands when we were younger, when we were teenagers,’ says Adam casually. ‘We’ve all been in and out of bands.’
But they seem to have hit the nail on the head with this one. The sound of their music is influenced by the clean sounds of 1950’s pop music, and bands such as The Wake. Jonathan tells us that they aren’t so much inspired as have a desire to ‘bring back pop’ and give it the name that it used to have. ‘People’s perception of pop has changed,’ he says. ‘We want to bring it back to sounds like The Smiths and Orange Juice.’ As for their new-found fame, it seems to still be a bit of a shock to the system, after working jobs such as shoe salesman, Disneyland security guard, carpenter and barman. In fact, Jonathan reveals, ‘when we go home, Jacob [guitarist] bartends for free, just to have some kind of normality,’ comparing him to Stevie Nicks who, at the height of her fame, kept a New York apartment with a mattress on the floor like she had when she was just starting out, in order to keep some ground under her feet.
For now, though, The Drums are too busy touring the country to bartend. ‘It is exciting,’ Jonathan tells us. ‘This feels like our tour, like our time.’ And even the first couple of days have been eventful, with them kicking off in Newcastle and inadvertently hitting a fan in the head with a tambourine, before travelling on to our glorious city of Glasgow. ‘It was really nice coming in, just seeing all these castles on the skyline,’ says Jonathan on their journey up here. ‘We haven’t had chance to see much of it, but I took a walk round the square out here. I’d like to write an album here. It seems like a good place to write an album.’ Not quite Florida, the inspiration behind their last album, but hey, you never know.
However, after spending a good fifteen minutes talking about nothing much, their lovely manager Sean comes and tells us to wrap it up. I manage to get a brief look to the future before we part though, and ask where they think they’ll be in five years, to an agreed response – ‘Probably dead.’
Emma Bainbridge
Live Review: Chapel Club, King Tut's, 12/02/10
First on were Micky 9s, who provided a theatrical and avant-garde performance fusing funk, punk, electro and polka. Unfortunately, like most things avant-garde (think: dropping a kitten repeatedly from a tower block), the act became tedious after the first ten minutes. Pretty soon there's very little substance left and just a few scraps of fur and half a jawbone. Next on the bill was Redtrack, a band so mediocre that my whole operating sytem went onto standby. Apparently, they're playing on Hollyoaks sometime; not that you'd even notice their presence.
At about quarter to eleven, the headliners made it onstage. Chapel Club are a band from London, taking their name from the fact that they first starting practising in a church. After mounting the stage unassumingly, the band started with a strong opening song. The lead singer had perfected that 'overly-skinny, heavily-medicated' look. He stood static throughout the majority of the set, looking off somewhere into the ether despondently and distractedly, most likely thinking how being in a band is such bullshit and wondering WWSD? (What Would Sartre Do?) Actually, this persona fit the music well; I found Chapel Club's brand of groaning eighties-gloom-indie-pop particularly compelling and emersive. The audience were clearly rapt, watching with drunken eyes while swaying slightly. To complement and contrast with the lead singer's reserve, the rest of the band forced their bodies into the music, engaging in some energetic knee-bending.
Chapel Club showed their influences, giving nods to, among others, Placebo and Joy Division. The band and their music seemed to have a kind of kinetic energy which was building all the time. The combination of the droning, layered music and the vocalist's inaction (and possible anaemia...) made it seem that the band was steadily growing with potential. Unfortunately, this constrained and vibrating energy wasn't released. The final song of the set was good but played without any more gusto than the rest of the performance. What's more, the band walked off the stage without saying a word of thanks or recognition; only the drummer taking a moment on his hasty departure to shake a fan's hand. This display of louche indifference showed that the band members' mothers had never taught them the old maxim: it's cool to be despondent, but you don't have to be a wanker.
Pete Sansom
At about quarter to eleven, the headliners made it onstage. Chapel Club are a band from London, taking their name from the fact that they first starting practising in a church. After mounting the stage unassumingly, the band started with a strong opening song. The lead singer had perfected that 'overly-skinny, heavily-medicated' look. He stood static throughout the majority of the set, looking off somewhere into the ether despondently and distractedly, most likely thinking how being in a band is such bullshit and wondering WWSD? (What Would Sartre Do?) Actually, this persona fit the music well; I found Chapel Club's brand of groaning eighties-gloom-indie-pop particularly compelling and emersive. The audience were clearly rapt, watching with drunken eyes while swaying slightly. To complement and contrast with the lead singer's reserve, the rest of the band forced their bodies into the music, engaging in some energetic knee-bending.
Chapel Club showed their influences, giving nods to, among others, Placebo and Joy Division. The band and their music seemed to have a kind of kinetic energy which was building all the time. The combination of the droning, layered music and the vocalist's inaction (and possible anaemia...) made it seem that the band was steadily growing with potential. Unfortunately, this constrained and vibrating energy wasn't released. The final song of the set was good but played without any more gusto than the rest of the performance. What's more, the band walked off the stage without saying a word of thanks or recognition; only the drummer taking a moment on his hasty departure to shake a fan's hand. This display of louche indifference showed that the band members' mothers had never taught them the old maxim: it's cool to be despondent, but you don't have to be a wanker.
Pete Sansom
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