A Hawk and A Hacksaw / Délivrance
0 comments Published by hub culture on Sunday, 24 May 2009 at 12:26
My father refuses to watch the 1972 film Deliverance - he's seen it once and for him, that was more than enough. It's the story of four businessmen whose canoeing trip down the Cahulawassee River quickly turns into a nightmare. Assaulted by some frightening locals and pitted against the hazards of the river, they find themselves in a rather nasty fight for their lives.
Now, while Jeremy Barnes and Heather Trost haven't exactly spent the last couple of years hanging out in Eastern Europe with inbred, psychotic hillbillies, they have embarked on a daunting musical journey that not many would stomach. Their goal of learning the nuances of a tricky musical language, in a region off the map for mainstream America could easily have led them down a blind alley. So... would they, as the movie's tag line suggests, have been better off staying at home and playing golf?
Well, the short answer is no, because A Hawk and A Hacksaw have made their best, most confident record to date. It's a thrilling, mostly instrumental ride influenced by the Romanian diva Romica Puceanu, the Balkan brass of collaborators Fanfare Ciocărlia, and the breathless music of dark, smoky Budapest dance houses. There are plaintive violin-led pieces, which wouldn't be out of place accompanying a café scene in a Béla Tarr film, and scratchy field recordings - the first half of 'Raggle Taggle' sounds like a beautiful Romanian radio broadcast from 70 years ago. The sheer depth of this record means that Délivrance avoids one of the pitfalls of some Balkan albums, such as those from Ciocărlia - namely that the buoyant music becomes slightly repetitive.
Alongside the British bouzouki player Chris Hladowski, AHAAH have enlisted some key performers from Budapest's folk music circuit. A standout contribution comes from cimbalom virtuoso Kálman Bálogh, whose performance on 'Kertész' is blistering - the notes zip by at an astonishing speed. Other collaborators include Béla Ágoston, of quirky Hungarian hip-hop band Zuboly, and their close friend, trumpeter and violinist Ferenc Kovács.
I once saw Kovács play with Barnes and Trost on a makeshift stage, to twenty people, in the small Hungarian village of Szentendre. It was a scene that summed AHAAH's fearless, unique journey up perfectly. Although both violinists were undeniably virtuosic, the contrast in their style was marked, and picked up on by a handful of bemused audience members. Kovács' performance was freewheeling, that of a man who had grown up steeped in these musical traditions, while Trost handled the fiendishly difficult music with a look of fierce concentration.
Délivrance is no Gogol Bordello Balkan pastiche, nor does it deserve to get lumped into the category of 'world music'. Rather, it's a remarkable fusion, the sound of a band living and breathing a musical culture far removed from their own. According to them, their music is borderless, and the making of it is similar to 'climbing a mountain'. If this excellent album is anything to go by, I sincerely hope that A Hawk and a Hacksaw are halfway up the cliff face, some way off reaching their musical peak.
Andy T, former writer for thehub is currently working for UK-based music website thelineofbestfit. Read more here.
Júlia & Juliet - Édes Hús/Sweet Flesh
0 comments Published by hub culture on Tuesday, 12 May 2009 at 21:07
O Júlia , Júlia ! wherefore art thou Júlia ?
A play with two Juliets, one Hungarian and one English: you might well ask 'wherefore'. The wherefore, according to the blurb, at least, is to conjure up "Shakespeare's most beautiful ghost", and for a mixed nationality audience at that. I won't say I was skeptical but I wondered how it would work. With no one but Juliet doubled up, would it not be something like a one-sided telephone call with simultaneous interpretation?
A minimal set and costumes reflected a now familiar approach to Shakespeare, and as the audience entered, Juliet was already romping with herself in the middle of a featureless stage. I was quickly reassured that the Juliets would not be an exact duplicate of each other: some lines and movements were mirrored, others weren't. When one Juliet spoke, the other became a silent Romeo; a setting; a thought at the back of Juliet's mind.
While I'm sure there was a definite direction to the script, seeing Romeo & Juliet performed a few years ago was not sufficient for me to follow the story as such. Shakespeare-lovers or anyone who's actually read the thing recently would therefore have a much different experience. Add to that, the fact that some of the audience would understand the Hungarian, some the English, and others both or neither, and we suddenly have eight different plays on show. (Anyone who is unfamiliar with Romeo & Juliet and understands neither language might be in for a rough ride.)
In the absence of a straightforward narrative, it was the performances that took on the great burden of keeping me interested, and both Juliets were exceptional. That they were not alike was crucial: one, physical, sexual and occasionally animalistic (she growled at me as soon as I sat down) and the other slight and delicate. If you only understood the language of one, the other took on a mysterious presence but at the fore nonetheless. To say that they deconstructed Juliet would be too clinical but they certainly delved around in her psyche.
The Hungarian Juliet, Ubrankovics Júlia, is billed as an award-winning actress (she's even got a profile on IMDB!!) and indeed, it was clear that she was no amateur. It was surprising then that Sophie Thompson, The English Juliet, billed as "from London" went beyond the call of duty, soundtracking the whole thing by singing ghostly medieval melodies that seamlessly wove in and out of the script. Even if you have no theatrical bone in your body, you couldn't fail to be impressed by her undertaking.
With such chemistry, it was a surprise that our post-performance chat with the cast, and director, Engi-Nagy Natália, felt a little strained. Little did we know that Júlia had just announced that she wouldn't be taking part in any further shows. (With an audience that barely numbered twenty, you can understand why.) With two further shows scheduled for late May, and performances at the Camden Fringe Festival lined up, Natália has been quick to recruit news reporter, Kucsera Olga!
To see how she handles the switch to the stage, head to Sirály on Tuesday 26th or Wednesday 27th May. That gives me two weeks to brush up on my Shakespeare before finding out whether Olga can preserve the crucial balance and match the intensity of Júlia's performance. Who knows, she may even growl at me too.
Keep up to date with developments by following Natália's performance diary blog here.
Andy Sz.
A minimal set and costumes reflected a now familiar approach to Shakespeare, and as the audience entered, Juliet was already romping with herself in the middle of a featureless stage. I was quickly reassured that the Juliets would not be an exact duplicate of each other: some lines and movements were mirrored, others weren't. When one Juliet spoke, the other became a silent Romeo; a setting; a thought at the back of Juliet's mind.
While I'm sure there was a definite direction to the script, seeing Romeo & Juliet performed a few years ago was not sufficient for me to follow the story as such. Shakespeare-lovers or anyone who's actually read the thing recently would therefore have a much different experience. Add to that, the fact that some of the audience would understand the Hungarian, some the English, and others both or neither, and we suddenly have eight different plays on show. (Anyone who is unfamiliar with Romeo & Juliet and understands neither language might be in for a rough ride.)
In the absence of a straightforward narrative, it was the performances that took on the great burden of keeping me interested, and both Juliets were exceptional. That they were not alike was crucial: one, physical, sexual and occasionally animalistic (she growled at me as soon as I sat down) and the other slight and delicate. If you only understood the language of one, the other took on a mysterious presence but at the fore nonetheless. To say that they deconstructed Juliet would be too clinical but they certainly delved around in her psyche.The Hungarian Juliet, Ubrankovics Júlia, is billed as an award-winning actress (she's even got a profile on IMDB!!) and indeed, it was clear that she was no amateur. It was surprising then that Sophie Thompson, The English Juliet, billed as "from London" went beyond the call of duty, soundtracking the whole thing by singing ghostly medieval melodies that seamlessly wove in and out of the script. Even if you have no theatrical bone in your body, you couldn't fail to be impressed by her undertaking.
With such chemistry, it was a surprise that our post-performance chat with the cast, and director, Engi-Nagy Natália, felt a little strained. Little did we know that Júlia had just announced that she wouldn't be taking part in any further shows. (With an audience that barely numbered twenty, you can understand why.) With two further shows scheduled for late May, and performances at the Camden Fringe Festival lined up, Natália has been quick to recruit news reporter, Kucsera Olga!
To see how she handles the switch to the stage, head to Sirály on Tuesday 26th or Wednesday 27th May. That gives me two weeks to brush up on my Shakespeare before finding out whether Olga can preserve the crucial balance and match the intensity of Júlia's performance. Who knows, she may even growl at me too.
Keep up to date with developments by following Natália's performance diary blog here.
Andy Sz.
Ludwig Museum, until 5th July
Tues.-Sun. 10:00-20:00, 800 ft
Komor Marcell u. 1 [map]Pest, IX, Boraros tér (T 4,6), 8 min
Hinging your career on the stardom of others starts with a gut feeling and some incredible strokes of good luck. Such was the case with renowned photographer, Anton Corbijn from the beginning.
Jacob P.
Rewind 30 years from present and you’ll find a shy, young man in his early twenties making a snap decision to move from his native Netherlands to London. His singular motivation was the music of a band that would posthumously, and, upon the suicide of the front man, be known ‘round the world. That band: Joy Division. Corbijn, barely able to speak English, photographed them just two weeks after he arrived in London in 1979 (the photo appears as a central figure of the show), and that’s where things really began.
Fast forward almost thirty years and that same photographer is making his first feature-length film, Control, a biopic about the tragic life of Ian Curtis, the troubled troubadour of that little band he photographed in a London Tube station.
With such clear "bookends," it's a fine time for a massive career-spanning retrospective, simply titled, “Work.”
Corbijn has photographed countless integral underground and mainstream musicians, made some of the most recognizable music videos of all time – Nirvana’s “Heart-Shaped Box” being one – and reduced some of the world’s biggest film stars to meager-looking mortals. (One exception is his portrait of physicist, Stephen Hawking, who he makes look like a rock star.) Dylan, Ginsberg, Cash, U2, Kraftwerk, Waits, De Niro, Eastwood...his list of subjects goes on in impressive fashion.
“Composition is easy,” Corbijn said, at a recent free screening of Control at A38, part of the "Holland Kultfeszt." He says he places the importance on the person behind the camera, an emphasis easy to make if you've got a portfolio like Corbijn's.
Regardless, you'd find it hard to argue the fact that his work is strung together in a manner that is distinctly his. The graininess that comes from a 35mm negative being blown up beyond the natural limit, and the blurred subjects, rendered imperfect and almost featureless, are both signatures of his early work in black and white .
Later in his career his prints shrink down and sharpen, yet there is no connection lost between photographer and subject. It’s obvious that Corbijn somehow gets these celebrated people to open up. He forces them into a relationship with the camera; either that or he coaxes it out of them. Judging from Corbijn’s modest demeanor and the intimacy reflected in his photographs, the latter is probably true.
His numerous photos of Depeche Mode are a case in point. An entire room is devoted to them, in honor of the role he's played in their visual aesthetic that's always been akin to their music.
In recent years, Corbin has turned the camera on himself, or rather versions of himself dressed as other people. In the series “a. somebody” he employs a style of self-portrait that evokes the work of Cindy Sherman. Here, Corbijn imitates musicians who died in full glare of the media, some he worked with (i.e. Ian Curtis, Kurt Cobain) and some he never had the chance to (i.e. John Lennon).
Walking through the multitude of photographs that make up Corbijn’s life's work, one can truly grasp the weight of these images. While they can be visually stunning, both for the saturation and the simple compositions, they also cut through the gloss to show a more intimate, human side of those that so often placed atop pedestals.
Yes, the chance to photograph four skinny, shivering musicians from Manchester served as the launch pad for Corbijn, but, like his subjects, it's taken more than luck to keep him amongst the stars. If you’re a fan of photography, music, or stardom, this exhibition shouldn’t go unseen.
Anton Corbjin Antwon Corbin Antone Corbwin
Fast forward almost thirty years and that same photographer is making his first feature-length film, Control, a biopic about the tragic life of Ian Curtis, the troubled troubadour of that little band he photographed in a London Tube station.With such clear "bookends," it's a fine time for a massive career-spanning retrospective, simply titled, “Work.”
Corbijn has photographed countless integral underground and mainstream musicians, made some of the most recognizable music videos of all time – Nirvana’s “Heart-Shaped Box” being one – and reduced some of the world’s biggest film stars to meager-looking mortals. (One exception is his portrait of physicist, Stephen Hawking, who he makes look like a rock star.) Dylan, Ginsberg, Cash, U2, Kraftwerk, Waits, De Niro, Eastwood...his list of subjects goes on in impressive fashion.
“Composition is easy,” Corbijn said, at a recent free screening of Control at A38, part of the "Holland Kultfeszt." He says he places the importance on the person behind the camera, an emphasis easy to make if you've got a portfolio like Corbijn's.
Regardless, you'd find it hard to argue the fact that his work is strung together in a manner that is distinctly his. The graininess that comes from a 35mm negative being blown up beyond the natural limit, and the blurred subjects, rendered imperfect and almost featureless, are both signatures of his early work in black and white .
Later in his career his prints shrink down and sharpen, yet there is no connection lost between photographer and subject. It’s obvious that Corbijn somehow gets these celebrated people to open up. He forces them into a relationship with the camera; either that or he coaxes it out of them. Judging from Corbijn’s modest demeanor and the intimacy reflected in his photographs, the latter is probably true.His numerous photos of Depeche Mode are a case in point. An entire room is devoted to them, in honor of the role he's played in their visual aesthetic that's always been akin to their music.
In recent years, Corbin has turned the camera on himself, or rather versions of himself dressed as other people. In the series “a. somebody” he employs a style of self-portrait that evokes the work of Cindy Sherman. Here, Corbijn imitates musicians who died in full glare of the media, some he worked with (i.e. Ian Curtis, Kurt Cobain) and some he never had the chance to (i.e. John Lennon).Walking through the multitude of photographs that make up Corbijn’s life's work, one can truly grasp the weight of these images. While they can be visually stunning, both for the saturation and the simple compositions, they also cut through the gloss to show a more intimate, human side of those that so often placed atop pedestals.
Yes, the chance to photograph four skinny, shivering musicians from Manchester served as the launch pad for Corbijn, but, like his subjects, it's taken more than luck to keep him amongst the stars. If you’re a fan of photography, music, or stardom, this exhibition shouldn’t go unseen.
Anton Corbjin Antwon Corbin Antone Corbwin
Picasso Point
Hajós utca 31 [map]
Pest Centre, Opera (M1), 3 min
Entertaining, Mr Sloane? Well, eventually.
Equus productions debuted last spring with an enterprising and gripping version of Equus, which caught me happily off-guard. (Review here.) This time out, Rhett Stevens has a stab at Joe Orton's 1964 black comedy, Entertaining Mr Sloane, about a lodger, a landlady, her brother and a murder or two.
Staged in Picasso Point's brick basement, the venue is not ideal, and a stage flanked by the audience on either side was the first suggestion that pragmatic solutions would outweigh inspired choices.
With only four characters and no restrictions on nationality, you might think that casting would be a doddle. Not so. With the original Sloane - controversially, middle-aged and black - pulling out midway through rehearsals, and the director standing in as Kemp, it's a miracle that there's anything to review.
Sloane, like Equus before it, has recently enjoyed a West End revival, although its suitability for a budget Budapest production with an international audience is rather more questionable. Equus was a weird story but crucially, it was extremely visual. Sloane, on the other hand, is a lot more dependent on the script and is set in a house on the edge of a rubbish tip. The action in Act I was so fast and furious that whenever my view was obscured, I was content to stare at the back of the head in front of me until I could see again.
So even without a slightly jittery start and a mistimed doorbell - the hallmarks of amateur theatre anywhere - the slow-paced, dated and anglocentric script made the struggle all the more palpable. Modernisms were added but mentions of contact lenses, joyriding and boxer shorts couldn't drag it into the present.
While I certainly didn't want to see a "Carry On Mr Sloane", I did feel that a bolder interpretation of the characters would have given the first act a greater sense of purpose. Sylvia Llewelyn's Kath was the strongest performance, based largely on an Are You Being Served? era Wendy Richard. Daniel Hall's delivery had a certain Michael Caine chic, while Rhett Steven's Kemp hinted at Buster Merryfield, without exploiting its comic potential. With no English archetype to reference, Béres Miklós, undisputable star of Equus, was left a little adrift.
Fortunately, Orton's script picks up in Acts II and III, as the wretched characters reveal more of themselves. It's also more liberally peppered with insults and quips and gradually, the audience's uncertainty gave way to wry smiles and the odd guffaw. The final curtain was accompanied by enough enthusiasm for the cast to bow twice, but the applause was polite rather than rapturous.
So Equus' second production just about keeps them on track, and remains the only opportunity you're likely to get to see challenging English theatre in Budapest. However, it does highlight that, in theatrical terms, 45 years is a long time and 1000 miles is a long way.
The last two performances will be held on Tuesday 5th and Wednesday 6th May at 19:45. Details here.
Andy Sz.
Equus productions debuted last spring with an enterprising and gripping version of Equus, which caught me happily off-guard. (Review here.) This time out, Rhett Stevens has a stab at Joe Orton's 1964 black comedy, Entertaining Mr Sloane, about a lodger, a landlady, her brother and a murder or two.
Staged in Picasso Point's brick basement, the venue is not ideal, and a stage flanked by the audience on either side was the first suggestion that pragmatic solutions would outweigh inspired choices.
With only four characters and no restrictions on nationality, you might think that casting would be a doddle. Not so. With the original Sloane - controversially, middle-aged and black - pulling out midway through rehearsals, and the director standing in as Kemp, it's a miracle that there's anything to review.
Sloane, like Equus before it, has recently enjoyed a West End revival, although its suitability for a budget Budapest production with an international audience is rather more questionable. Equus was a weird story but crucially, it was extremely visual. Sloane, on the other hand, is a lot more dependent on the script and is set in a house on the edge of a rubbish tip. The action in Act I was so fast and furious that whenever my view was obscured, I was content to stare at the back of the head in front of me until I could see again.
So even without a slightly jittery start and a mistimed doorbell - the hallmarks of amateur theatre anywhere - the slow-paced, dated and anglocentric script made the struggle all the more palpable. Modernisms were added but mentions of contact lenses, joyriding and boxer shorts couldn't drag it into the present.
While I certainly didn't want to see a "Carry On Mr Sloane", I did feel that a bolder interpretation of the characters would have given the first act a greater sense of purpose. Sylvia Llewelyn's Kath was the strongest performance, based largely on an Are You Being Served? era Wendy Richard. Daniel Hall's delivery had a certain Michael Caine chic, while Rhett Steven's Kemp hinted at Buster Merryfield, without exploiting its comic potential. With no English archetype to reference, Béres Miklós, undisputable star of Equus, was left a little adrift.
Fortunately, Orton's script picks up in Acts II and III, as the wretched characters reveal more of themselves. It's also more liberally peppered with insults and quips and gradually, the audience's uncertainty gave way to wry smiles and the odd guffaw. The final curtain was accompanied by enough enthusiasm for the cast to bow twice, but the applause was polite rather than rapturous.
So Equus' second production just about keeps them on track, and remains the only opportunity you're likely to get to see challenging English theatre in Budapest. However, it does highlight that, in theatrical terms, 45 years is a long time and 1000 miles is a long way.
The last two performances will be held on Tuesday 5th and Wednesday 6th May at 19:45. Details here.
Andy Sz.
Műcsarnok, until 17th May
Dózsa György út 37 (Hősök tere) [map]
Pest, XIV, Hősök tere (M1), 2 min
Without a doubt, "Mi Vida - From Heaven to Hell", the exhibition on loan from Spain’s MUSAC in León, is the show to see in the city at the moment. In fact, it’s one of the best I’ve seen here, or anywhere for that matter. The title of the show is spot on. Not a strict divide between paradise and the burning netherworld, it concerns itself with all that lies between the two: life.
From large video works and performance art, to photographs, installations, and paintings; strangely, it all links up under the umbrella of “human discourse,” unlike another group show happening in Budapest at the moment. From familial turmoil and oddities (see Jesper Just and Tracey Moffatt), to sexual and surreal (see Marina Abramovic and Pipilotti Rist), to war and human destruction (see Cristina Garciá Rodero and Thomas Hirschhorn); the ugly and the beautiful are shown side by side in immaculate curatorial fashion.
If the attendance at the opening is any indication of the importance of Mi Vida, then the fact that you could barely move speaks volumes, and some recognizable names don't hurt either. One might expect with 36 artists and over 100 pieces, there’d be plenty of duds. However, nothing could be further from the truth. Sure, artists like Canadian heavy-hitter, Marcel Dzama, are that bit more accomplished but the lesser works are more than just filler.
Dzama’s small-scale ink and watercolor drawings are surrealist and comic book-esque. They are without background or contextual objects allowing the fantastic characters’ peculiar actions to fill the empty space. The paintings of re-worked Polaroids in Enrique Marty’s “La Familia” are equally imaginative. The color and technique is devilish, violent and unsettling, evoking something reminiscent of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
While Dzama and Marty’s works play primarily in the realm of the bizarre, the large-scale photo capturing destruction on a road in Kabul by Luc Delahaye, brings the exhibition back into the realm of reality: the pain of personal loss that lies behind the camera’s main focus. Meanwhile, Tomas Hirschhorn’s massive installation entitled United Nations Miniatures, may appear comical on the surface, before the stark reality behind the miniaturization of so many indistinguishable war atrocities sets in.
It’s not all doom and gloom though. An entire room (blatantly marked 18+, so kiddies beware!) is dedicated to Serbian artist, Marina Abramovic’s “Balkan Erotic Epic.” Here Abramovic questions the presentation of “information” by documenting obscure, sexual agricultural rites. Despite their patent absurdity, they remain somehow convincing. The video of the women in traditional garb running around in the rain flashing their genitals and breasts to the sky, and the one of the naked men frantically thrusting into the soil are guaranteed to amuse, at the very least.
Also following a comedic line, is Candice Breitz’s “Mother” – the distillation of six famous motherly roles in Hollywood films. Each mother, including actresses Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts, is given her own screen in a pitch-black room where they are arranged in a stadium-like semi-circle. Everything around them is digitally removed, blackened out, focusing the attention on their emotions. The repetition of noises, snivels, and moans showcases the spectrum of motherly emotions in a span of just 13 minutes.
The presentation of much of the work is inventive and follows with the “on the cutting cusp” execution and feeling of the show. This is most evident in the presentation of Wolfgang Tillmans’ photographs, which are strewn about the wall in an erratic but calculated fashion. Some are massive, high-hanging and framed, others are small and simply taped, un-matted, to the wall in a series.
Only the work of American photographer, Ryan McGinley is largely underwhelming. McGinley has become highly regarded as a young photographer in the past ten years, and Műcsarnok’s promotional posters boast that his work is included in the show. However, to me, his photos are highly self-indulgent and lack any real discourse: it’s just American youth in the desert, nakedly basking in their parents’ trust fund.
Mi Vida is a show that is exciting for its presentation and near-flawless execution, and also for the subjects that are tackled within. The most poignant trends in the contemporary art world lie within the walls of Műcsarnok at this very moment. Get there at any cost before the show closes on the 17th of May!
All photos courtesy Műcsarnok, except the topmost.
Jacob P.
From large video works and performance art, to photographs, installations, and paintings; strangely, it all links up under the umbrella of “human discourse,” unlike another group show happening in Budapest at the moment. From familial turmoil and oddities (see Jesper Just and Tracey Moffatt), to sexual and surreal (see Marina Abramovic and Pipilotti Rist), to war and human destruction (see Cristina Garciá Rodero and Thomas Hirschhorn); the ugly and the beautiful are shown side by side in immaculate curatorial fashion.
If the attendance at the opening is any indication of the importance of Mi Vida, then the fact that you could barely move speaks volumes, and some recognizable names don't hurt either. One might expect with 36 artists and over 100 pieces, there’d be plenty of duds. However, nothing could be further from the truth. Sure, artists like Canadian heavy-hitter, Marcel Dzama, are that bit more accomplished but the lesser works are more than just filler.Dzama’s small-scale ink and watercolor drawings are surrealist and comic book-esque. They are without background or contextual objects allowing the fantastic characters’ peculiar actions to fill the empty space. The paintings of re-worked Polaroids in Enrique Marty’s “La Familia” are equally imaginative. The color and technique is devilish, violent and unsettling, evoking something reminiscent of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
While Dzama and Marty’s works play primarily in the realm of the bizarre, the large-scale photo capturing destruction on a road in Kabul by Luc Delahaye, brings the exhibition back into the realm of reality: the pain of personal loss that lies behind the camera’s main focus. Meanwhile, Tomas Hirschhorn’s massive installation entitled United Nations Miniatures, may appear comical on the surface, before the stark reality behind the miniaturization of so many indistinguishable war atrocities sets in.
It’s not all doom and gloom though. An entire room (blatantly marked 18+, so kiddies beware!) is dedicated to Serbian artist, Marina Abramovic’s “Balkan Erotic Epic.” Here Abramovic questions the presentation of “information” by documenting obscure, sexual agricultural rites. Despite their patent absurdity, they remain somehow convincing. The video of the women in traditional garb running around in the rain flashing their genitals and breasts to the sky, and the one of the naked men frantically thrusting into the soil are guaranteed to amuse, at the very least.
Also following a comedic line, is Candice Breitz’s “Mother” – the distillation of six famous motherly roles in Hollywood films. Each mother, including actresses Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts, is given her own screen in a pitch-black room where they are arranged in a stadium-like semi-circle. Everything around them is digitally removed, blackened out, focusing the attention on their emotions. The repetition of noises, snivels, and moans showcases the spectrum of motherly emotions in a span of just 13 minutes. The presentation of much of the work is inventive and follows with the “on the cutting cusp” execution and feeling of the show. This is most evident in the presentation of Wolfgang Tillmans’ photographs, which are strewn about the wall in an erratic but calculated fashion. Some are massive, high-hanging and framed, others are small and simply taped, un-matted, to the wall in a series.
Only the work of American photographer, Ryan McGinley is largely underwhelming. McGinley has become highly regarded as a young photographer in the past ten years, and Műcsarnok’s promotional posters boast that his work is included in the show. However, to me, his photos are highly self-indulgent and lack any real discourse: it’s just American youth in the desert, nakedly basking in their parents’ trust fund.
Mi Vida is a show that is exciting for its presentation and near-flawless execution, and also for the subjects that are tackled within. The most poignant trends in the contemporary art world lie within the walls of Műcsarnok at this very moment. Get there at any cost before the show closes on the 17th of May!
All photos courtesy Műcsarnok, except the topmost.
Jacob P.
Economical Art - New Acquisitions
0 comments Published by hub culture on Tuesday, 17 March 2009 at 18:34
Tues.-Sun. 10:00-18:00,1200 ft
Komor Marcell u. 1 [map]Pest, IX, Boraros tér (T 4,6), 8 min
Art, in times of economic desperation, might appear frivolous, and spending copious amounts of money on it can seem downright wrong. That’s one way of looking at it. The other: art is an essential means of escape, especially in times like these. The folks at the Ludwig Museum take the latter view, as you would expect, but it looks like they're scraping around in their pockets like the rest of us.
The art that comprises New Acquisitions is mostly what they’ve purchased in the past couple of years and is all contemporary, if not the newest in new. Pieces by Hungarian artists make up most of the show, but there are several works from artists around the world including Chinese artist, Csi Peng, whose “True And False Money King” might hint at a fitting theme.
Alas, the selection of photography, painting, sculpture, collage, and video seems to have everything but unity. An exhibition of recent acquisitions is bound to be a mixed bag but here the emphasis is most definitely on the 'mixed'. The neon piece, “Little Warsaw” doesn’t really tie in with Péter Gémes’s brilliant, pictogram-esque large-scale black and white negatives, nor Antal Lakner’s comical “Passive Working Devices” (above, right). But then again, nothing meshes.
Something that always tends to wear me out at these group shows is the sheer amount of video work on display. I feel like an A.D.D. kid inside a Chuck E. Cheese that’s inside of a Toys R Us that’s inside of a McDonald’s PlayPlace. Then, when you get to watch them, it suddenly transforms into a series of 5-15 minutes comas... and New Acquisitions has 7 of them.
The art that comprises New Acquisitions is mostly what they’ve purchased in the past couple of years and is all contemporary, if not the newest in new. Pieces by Hungarian artists make up most of the show, but there are several works from artists around the world including Chinese artist, Csi Peng, whose “True And False Money King” might hint at a fitting theme.
Alas, the selection of photography, painting, sculpture, collage, and video seems to have everything but unity. An exhibition of recent acquisitions is bound to be a mixed bag but here the emphasis is most definitely on the 'mixed'. The neon piece, “Little Warsaw” doesn’t really tie in with Péter Gémes’s brilliant, pictogram-esque large-scale black and white negatives, nor Antal Lakner’s comical “Passive Working Devices” (above, right). But then again, nothing meshes.
Something that always tends to wear me out at these group shows is the sheer amount of video work on display. I feel like an A.D.D. kid inside a Chuck E. Cheese that’s inside of a Toys R Us that’s inside of a McDonald’s PlayPlace. Then, when you get to watch them, it suddenly transforms into a series of 5-15 minutes comas... and New Acquisitions has 7 of them.
Throughout the exhibition, no single piece really stands out as envelope-pushing or jaw-droppingly, mind-blowingly amazing. That said, the pieces do make for a reasonable discourse on Hungarian art and its place within the larger spectrum of contemporary art. Thanks to the economic crisis, it would seem that LUMU is keeping things up longer than usual, giving you until mid-June to check it out. So it's not exactly essential and there's no rush: just see if you can scrape together enough forints from the cracks in your couch.
Jacob P.
Young Widows - 18 February 2009 - Dürer Kert
1 comments Published by hub culture on Monday, 23 February 2009 at 21:27
Young Widows. Quite a fitting moniker when you sit down and take a look at this Louisville, Kentucky, USA band’s history. Both guitarist/vocalist Evan Patterson and Nick Thieneman, who pulls bass and vocal duties, carried their former band, Breather Resist from the ashes after their vocalist was asked to depart. Their latest effort, Old Wounds, is just their second (sort of) studio full length, but that by no means constitutes their salad days of pavement pounding.A precise live set that consists entirely of Old Wounds from start to finish on this European tour has got Young Widows continuing their legacy of a near-constant tour schedule. They’re on tour almost non-stop through mid-April, which takes them back to the US to play the famed SXSW festival in Austin, Texas. This three-piece, which also includes drummer, Jeremy McMonigle, has managed to keep a squeaky clean, explosive live show, without the fat. No colorful lights, no fog machines, no bullshit. The songs are stripped down—forget samples and special effects. What you hear on the album, you get live. When the band made a stop in Budapest on February 18th, we had the chance to catch up with them.
__________________________________
HUB- So you're playing Old Wounds in it's entirety on this European tour, how's that been going over, especially in the places you haven't played before?
Evan- It's going very well. We are literally soiling ourselves every night.
Jeremy- Really awesome.
Nick- I second that.
HUB- In terms of the recording process for Old Wounds, why did you do just four songs in a live setting and not the whole album? With that said, the album sounds cohesive, not just in the songs, but in the recording, were you worried it wouldn't?
Nick- No, some of the songs we wanted to record live and some in the studio. We just had to feel it out through the live sessions and listening back to everything.
Jeremy- We had the utmost faith in Kurt’s [Ballou of the band Converge and engineer/owner of Godcity Studio] ability. So we knew that it would all come together.
Evan- Some of the best drum sounds we got were in our friends house the first day we met up with Kurt. We had mics going up staircases, in a kitchen, and it really came out huge.
HUB- The music industry seems to be changing as we know it, at least the sales of records, how did that effect this latest album? Was that a factor in the recording, sort of bringing it back to the roots of a live show?
Jeremy- Not really we just wanted to do it that way for our own gratification.
Evan- The music industry is boring and has nothing to do with our band. We aren't trying to bring anything back, we're trying to make new sounds, patterns, and songs that we find natural and compelling.
HUB- Vinyl as a format is looking like a better and better way to make money from album sales, especially with the rabid (illegal) download culture. It seems doing limited runs is the way to do things, for example your 7" series. Does the downloading/blog culture play any sort of role in the way you guys do things?
Jeremy, Nick, Evan- No.
HUB- With that said, how do you guys feel about this downloading generation? If people are stealing your album from blogs and the like, especially in a place like Budapest, where not so many stores are going to have your record, does that get you "Lars Ulrich angry?"
Evan- Denying it seems pointless. I just downloaded Crime and the City Solution and Swell Maps records right before this tour. It was my first time and I've been listening to those records non-stop this entire tour. Amazing music.
Jeremy- Not really. If that’s how people get into our band, cool. Maybe they will come to the show and buy a copy of the record. Actually that very situation placed at a show in France.
HUB- What about the economic crisis? Does that have an effect on you guys as a band/album sales/touring? Do you find yourselves needing to tour more to make ends meet?
Evan- We're under the crisis line and I honestly haven't even thought about its effect on our band. This band is more about the art and the ideas, nothing else.
Jeremy- Not yet and hopefully it won’t ever.
HUB- A lot of the stops on this European tour are pretty standard, and not so many underground US bands come through Budapest, it seems kind of off the beaten tour path. You mentioned during your set that you guys love this city, was that a main motivating factor to play here?
Nick- Well, Breather Resist played [in Budapest] in 2005 and the show went well plus we got to see a lot of the city and it's amazing.
Jeremy- It seemed like a cool place. Even though it was a bit out of the way it was worth playing because the show was nice.
Evan- Wonderful and passionate people have brought us to Budapest and that is what makes me love Buda, Pest, and the little island between [Margit Sziget] that brings the two together.
__________________________________
Check out Young Widows at their MySpace page here.
(Interview & Photos: Jacob P)
HUB- So you're playing Old Wounds in it's entirety on this European tour, how's that been going over, especially in the places you haven't played before?
Evan- It's going very well. We are literally soiling ourselves every night.
Jeremy- Really awesome.
Nick- I second that.
HUB- In terms of the recording process for Old Wounds, why did you do just four songs in a live setting and not the whole album? With that said, the album sounds cohesive, not just in the songs, but in the recording, were you worried it wouldn't?
Nick- No, some of the songs we wanted to record live and some in the studio. We just had to feel it out through the live sessions and listening back to everything.
Jeremy- We had the utmost faith in Kurt’s [Ballou of the band Converge and engineer/owner of Godcity Studio] ability. So we knew that it would all come together.
Evan- Some of the best drum sounds we got were in our friends house the first day we met up with Kurt. We had mics going up staircases, in a kitchen, and it really came out huge.
HUB- The music industry seems to be changing as we know it, at least the sales of records, how did that effect this latest album? Was that a factor in the recording, sort of bringing it back to the roots of a live show?
Jeremy- Not really we just wanted to do it that way for our own gratification.
Evan- The music industry is boring and has nothing to do with our band. We aren't trying to bring anything back, we're trying to make new sounds, patterns, and songs that we find natural and compelling.
HUB- Vinyl as a format is looking like a better and better way to make money from album sales, especially with the rabid (illegal) download culture. It seems doing limited runs is the way to do things, for example your 7" series. Does the downloading/blog culture play any sort of role in the way you guys do things?
Jeremy, Nick, Evan- No.
HUB- With that said, how do you guys feel about this downloading generation? If people are stealing your album from blogs and the like, especially in a place like Budapest, where not so many stores are going to have your record, does that get you "Lars Ulrich angry?"
Evan- Denying it seems pointless. I just downloaded Crime and the City Solution and Swell Maps records right before this tour. It was my first time and I've been listening to those records non-stop this entire tour. Amazing music.
Jeremy- Not really. If that’s how people get into our band, cool. Maybe they will come to the show and buy a copy of the record. Actually that very situation placed at a show in France.
HUB- What about the economic crisis? Does that have an effect on you guys as a band/album sales/touring? Do you find yourselves needing to tour more to make ends meet?
Evan- We're under the crisis line and I honestly haven't even thought about its effect on our band. This band is more about the art and the ideas, nothing else.
Jeremy- Not yet and hopefully it won’t ever.
HUB- A lot of the stops on this European tour are pretty standard, and not so many underground US bands come through Budapest, it seems kind of off the beaten tour path. You mentioned during your set that you guys love this city, was that a main motivating factor to play here?
Nick- Well, Breather Resist played [in Budapest] in 2005 and the show went well plus we got to see a lot of the city and it's amazing.
Jeremy- It seemed like a cool place. Even though it was a bit out of the way it was worth playing because the show was nice.
Evan- Wonderful and passionate people have brought us to Budapest and that is what makes me love Buda, Pest, and the little island between [Margit Sziget] that brings the two together.
__________________________________
Check out Young Widows at their MySpace page here.
(Interview & Photos: Jacob P)
Music profile: ION - Irrational Orthodox Noise
0 comments Published by hub culture on Wednesday, 21 January 2009 at 12:23
Irrational Orthodox Noise look like they've just stepped out of a salon.
This betrays a certain 1980s ethos, but they're more New Wave than New Romantic. That's not in the pick 'n' mix Joy Division-by-numbers style either, that seems to be de rigeur among indie bands in Budapest and elsewhere (EZ Basic for example.) At times, they're a pretty good fit for Bernard Sumner's "depressing dance music" moniker, especially if you add 'industrial' as a prefix.
Songs are varied: "Teach Me How to Fly" is both sinister and dreamy; the dark electronica of "Check in Your Body" somehow remains radio friendly, at least until you reach the industrial boat-coming-into-the-harbour outro; while "Sounddress" is more of a warbling art project than a song.
When it comes to alternative music in Budapest there's a paucity of talent and an abundance of the ersatz. ION, however, are not part of the fashion. They tap into the history of independent music and come up with something that sounds genuinely 1987.
Sample them below or check their myspace here.
Andy Sz.
Songs are varied: "Teach Me How to Fly" is both sinister and dreamy; the dark electronica of "Check in Your Body" somehow remains radio friendly, at least until you reach the industrial boat-coming-into-the-harbour outro; while "Sounddress" is more of a warbling art project than a song.
When it comes to alternative music in Budapest there's a paucity of talent and an abundance of the ersatz. ION, however, are not part of the fashion. They tap into the history of independent music and come up with something that sounds genuinely 1987.
Sample them below or check their myspace here.
Andy Sz.
Thomas Ruff - The Conceptual Side of Photography
0 comments Published by hub culture on Friday, 19 December 2008 at 16:21Műcsarnok, until 15th February 2009
1200Ft.
Dózsa György út 37 (Hősök tere) [map]
Pest, XIV, Hősök tere (M1), 2 min
A walk through Thomas Ruff’s retrospective exhibition at Műcsarnok might initially strike a discord with viewers. Firstly for the fact that Ruff, who is a leading contemporary photographer, isn’t actually photographing that much, and secondly he isn't so concerned with photographs in the traditional sense.
Thomas Ruff doesn't so much take photographs as 'take' them. However, Ruff is no petty thief nor is he a rip-off merchant. A great deal of his photographic output has to do with the appropriation and manipulation of images into a broader conceptual idea.
One of his greatest concerns is commentary on the image as well as photography as a medium, to illustrate first-hand that a photograph is not in fact what Roland Barthes would call the “spectrum” - the actual things being photographed. Rather, Ruff’s work concentrates on Barthes’ “stadium” - the interpretation and contextualization - or in Ruff’s case, re-contextualization and de-contextualization. He is not so much a Photographer as he is an Artist, or Mediator.
His most noted work to date is his jpeg series where he pulls somewhat iconic images from the Internet - such as the freshly attacked, yet still standing, Twin Towers in New York - blows them up to enormous proportions (the long side usually measuring around 3 meters), and pixelates them, removing information which renders them unrecognizable at close range. However, the image of the 9/11 attack (ny02, 2004) is missing from the show, bringing into doubt how representative this “retrospective” actually is.
His other noteworthy series that features photos pulled and manipulated from the Web are his Nudes, a series of pornographic photos. The artist doesn’t pixelate these images in the same manner but instead blurs them, bringing countless genitals, plastic-looking breasts and vinyl lingerie into the realm of what might just border on tastefulness.
One of his greatest concerns is commentary on the image as well as photography as a medium, to illustrate first-hand that a photograph is not in fact what Roland Barthes would call the “spectrum” - the actual things being photographed. Rather, Ruff’s work concentrates on Barthes’ “stadium” - the interpretation and contextualization - or in Ruff’s case, re-contextualization and de-contextualization. He is not so much a Photographer as he is an Artist, or Mediator.
His most noted work to date is his jpeg series where he pulls somewhat iconic images from the Internet - such as the freshly attacked, yet still standing, Twin Towers in New York - blows them up to enormous proportions (the long side usually measuring around 3 meters), and pixelates them, removing information which renders them unrecognizable at close range. However, the image of the 9/11 attack (ny02, 2004) is missing from the show, bringing into doubt how representative this “retrospective” actually is.
His other noteworthy series that features photos pulled and manipulated from the Web are his Nudes, a series of pornographic photos. The artist doesn’t pixelate these images in the same manner but instead blurs them, bringing countless genitals, plastic-looking breasts and vinyl lingerie into the realm of what might just border on tastefulness.
Ruff has been doing what he calls “sampling,” ever since his Stars series from the 1990s, where he takes detailed photos of the night sky that were made by astronomers who had the very powerful equipment he didn't have access to. Here, Ruff is displaying and appropriating them in the form of large C-prints. The same goes for his Newspaper Photographs, in the sense that he’s “stealing” the images. The artist liberates newspaper photos from their captions to see if they still mean anything to the viewer, and of course the iconic ones (i.e., Hitler) do, and the banal do not.
Some of the work in the exhibition will have you wondering what exactly Ruff considers photography in the first place. His Substratum series, for example, just looks like old iTunes visualizer screen shots. Similarly, in the Zycles series, which takes centre stage in the exhibition space, Ruff uses computer formulas to create huge psychedelic canvases, which he likens to children’s meaningless scribbles. And meaningless they are, especially with the sub-par explanations he gives with each series. Perhaps he reveals too much; that there really isn't as much going on behind each photo as one might give him credit for.
One of the finer points of the show is the fact that Ruff focuses on precision within fine art, especially with his large-scale passport style portraits (which, gasp, he actually took). He is a product of the Academy of Art that studied under the Bechers, who, along with his peers, such as Thomas Struth and Andreas Gursky, elevated photography into the realm of fine art. These technically crafted, extremely large prints are a fine example.Such technical precision, however, may easily be lost on anyone outside the world of photography, and is unlikely to be enough to make the aesthetics of this exhibition alone stick with you for very long.
Jacob P.
Madhouse - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare
0 comments Published by hub culture on Thursday, 20 November 2008 at 20:41National Theatre
Komor Marcell u. 1 [map]
Pest South, IX Millenniumi Kulturális Központ (T2) 3 min
Sunday night and a foray to the National Theatre to see a performance of an English-language comedy, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare.The concept: every one of Shakespeare's plays performed by three players in two hours. As you might imagine, some of the bard's larger themes get glossed over in this format. This play was written by some prog-rock sounding trio called Long-Singer-Borgeson and is performed at the Nemzeti by a dramatic troupe called the Madhouse Theater Company.
Mike Kelly, Matt Devere and Andrew Hefler make up the cast. And, as you also might have imagined by now - it's a comedic spoof.
I had heard about this play and its long Budapest run many times. But the main circumstance that put me in the seats was not a review or knowledge of the text. It was a chance encounter with cast member Matt Devere in a Budapest watering hole - 6tus - a few weeks ago that brought me there. After he'd bought me my fifth Unicum, I pledged to see his show within the month.
On Sunday I was good as my word. Navigating a convoluted system of Metro, trams and buses brought us to the National Theater (Nemzeti Szinház), part of a relatively new complex that also includes the Palace of Arts (Művészetek Palotája or MUPA). The Palace of Arts building is quite handsome. I can't say the same for the theater building - a marriage of late-19th century neo-Hungarian excess and 21st century XIII district condominum.But it's what goes on inside that counts. And the inside of the theater was packed, mostly with what I assumed to be rich Hungarian teens and their chaperones. A full house for a play that is not new on a Sunday night - very impressive.
And the play did not disappoint the packed house. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare is not so much a theatrical piece but an elaborate comedy sketch. The script is loose and unfocused, but the production is amply held together by the charisma of the three players. There are a few moments (a few too few, perhaps) where the true dramatic talents of the players are juxtaposed against the slapstick of the material: certainly the most entertaining bits of the evening.
For the record, the play ends with Hamlet being done in 90 seconds - backwards. What a piece of work is a man! How infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable! Especially when cross-dressing as Ophelia with buck teeth or running about the stage in reverse gear with a rubber knife through thine own cursed head!
SF.
This article originally appeared on sfinbudapest.com. Read more from SF here.
A while ago, we covered the debut play from Equus productions: Equus, the story of one boy's love affair with a horse (to put it crassly.) Review here.
We'd been pretty skeptical about English theatre in Budapest, but were actually very impressed with what Equus managed to put together. Now they're starting a new project and you, who never got the breaks, you, who could have been a contender, might want to audition.
"Equus Productions is seeking artistic minded people both creative and performing for its Spring Production. Three Male actors - playing ages 20's, 30's & 40's; One Female playing age 40 + ... (Nationality irrelevant)
Auditions to be held in early December. Interested ???
Telephone Rhett on 06 30 955 5882 or email equusproductions@gmail.com for more details."
"I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it."
Don't miss your chance.
Andy Sz.
We'd been pretty skeptical about English theatre in Budapest, but were actually very impressed with what Equus managed to put together. Now they're starting a new project and you, who never got the breaks, you, who could have been a contender, might want to audition.
"Equus Productions is seeking artistic minded people both creative and performing for its Spring Production. Three Male actors - playing ages 20's, 30's & 40's; One Female playing age 40 + ... (Nationality irrelevant)
Auditions to be held in early December. Interested ???
Telephone Rhett on 06 30 955 5882 or email equusproductions@gmail.com for more details."
"I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it."
Don't miss your chance.
Andy Sz.
I have a theory about James Bond which might prove unpopular with hardcore fans. This is that for a long time, the Broccolis have been quietly pulling off one of the boldest scams in motion picture history. By simply switching things around, they’ve managed to get away with remaking the same movie over and over again, for forty-six years. It’s a singular achievement, put into perspective by imagining how tiresome twenty-two versions of any other film would be. Jaws, for example. The Neverending Story, Part 22. By now, these film sagas wouldn't be playing to packed houses, they'd be direct-to-video bombs, featuring Z-list stars and occasional cameos from people who should know better. Like Malcolm McDowell or Mick Jagger.
Personally, I gave up on Bond a long time ago, so it was a pleasant surprise that 2006’s Casino Royale turned out to be really rather good. Inspired by the Bourne movies, the franchise looked to have taken a big step forward. Casino Royale was lean and tough, the story was engaging, and in Daniel Craig, we had the best Bond in decades.
It’s unfortunate then, that Quantum of Solace has undone pretty much all of this excellent work. I wish I could summarise the story but I had absolutely no idea what was going on - apart from the fact it had something to do with Bond’s dead girlfriend, the shadowy but boring Quantum organisation, and an environmental terrorist.
There’s a traditional formula for Bond films - a breathtaking pre-credits stunt, followed by thirty to forty dull minutes of plot exposition, after which Bond hooks up with a babe and chases people all over the globe (and sometimes into space). Obviously aware that Bond stories are stymied by this template, the writers of Quantum of Solace have departed from it by dispensing with the initial plot development section altogether. Instead, they spend the first third of the film whipping Craig around the world at breakneck speed, which has the unfortunate effect of making Quantum of Solace seem like the Holiday programme, but with fighting.
All of this isn’t very interesting, and it’s easy to slip into a soporific state during the copious action set-pieces. In fact, I was far more taken with the dazzlingly surreal universe this film dreams up - one where a beautiful female secret agent can meet Bond at a Haitian airport wearing nothing but a brown trenchcoat and boots. Immediately, the two British government employees check into a hotel and get busy, before receiving an invitation to a party…. that evening! She hasn’t a thing to wear! Leave it with me, says Bond, and arranges for her to get some clothes and have her hair done.
However, that particular scene has nothing on the bizarre ten minute sequence in which Bond steals a plane and crash-lands in the middle of the Bolivian desert. Eventually, he climbs out of a crater then walks for hours in the midday sun, dressed in a tuxedo, before rocking up to a dusty, ramshackle, one-horse town. There, he hops straight onto a public bus (the kind that comes along once every three days) and doesn‘t even bat an eyelid.
The whole film feels like a missed opportunity, especially after the efficient and exciting Casino Royale. Craig is good, but the problem with creating a grittier Bond is that if it isn't backed up by an interesting or partially believable story, it's difficult to know why you should care. Bond doesn't instantly become a deeper character just because he's mourning his girlfriend. Either way, it'll be interesting to see what happens next. Will Ms. Broccoli follow this up with yet another money-spinning, predictable action flick, or will she attempt to find some better source material (Sebastian Faulks, perhaps)? Wasting Daniel Craig would certainly be a shame.
Finally, a word about that title, which has been widely dismissed as the worst ever. I’ve been mulling it over for a while, and I think to some extent I know what it's trying to say. ‘Bond 22 - An Amount of Comfort'. Whatever that means. It’s as pointless and daft as the film itself.
Andy T.
Petőfi Csarnok, Városliget,
19th December, 3490Ft
Pest, XIV, Széchenyi Fürdő, (M1) 5 min
Oh my Lord! Look who've cropped up in Budapest: Deliriou5? Yes. (It wasn't a question.)
A long time ago, in a town far away - Bedford, England, to be specific - I found myself at a Deliriou5? gig. It was held in a small church hall. There was a guy we knew called Sam whose family were members of a small, groovy kind of church that may or may not have been a cult. (I don't know where the distinction is drawn.) His mum argued with us about how the eye evolved.
When Sam invited us to the gig, I was a little suspicious. "They're not going to be really Goddy, are they? I'm not coming if they're Goddy." "No, they're not Goddy," he lied. My friend Stephen was angling for Sam's sister, so I think I had some kind of fluffer duty, especially as I was the one with the car.
The little hall was packed, and Sam went over to Deliriou5? (I can't help saying it like that), who hugged him, patted him on the shoulders and the like, and looked all chummy. I looked around at the audience; not a very rock 'n' roll audience, in truth. The gig began and they had some kind of projector, like the ones you get at school, displaying the lyrics: "Father God, you heard the prayer; From deep within my spirit cried; If there's a God, come rescue me; Now here I stand, I'm saved by grace." That's quite Goddy, I thought.
Not as Goddy as it got just before the interval. A song ended in clouds of feedback... feedback that just kept feeding back. And as it fed and fed and fed, the singer raised his arms out straight on each side and began to mutter... "Thank you Jesus... thank you Jesus..." To my horror, the people around me began to raise their arms too, all murmuring "Thank you Jesus... Thank you Jesus." I looked across at Stephen. He wasn't murmering. "Thank you Jesus!", I thought.
The interval arrived and I was out of there like an atheist. A slightly shaken atheist at that. Stephen stayed. It got weirder. I think someone was cured of Leukemia or something like that. [I invite him to elaborate in the comments.]
Fast forward 14 years and they're playing Petőfi Csarnok. I don't know if it's likely to be quite as intense but, if someone suggests that you go, and you're not a religious nutcase, don't say that you haven't been warned. On the other hand, it is their farewell tour, so if you're looking for God in the form of mediocre rock, it might be a while before the chance comes again. Tickets here.
delirious; delerious, delirius, delerius
Andy Sz.
When Sam invited us to the gig, I was a little suspicious. "They're not going to be really Goddy, are they? I'm not coming if they're Goddy." "No, they're not Goddy," he lied. My friend Stephen was angling for Sam's sister, so I think I had some kind of fluffer duty, especially as I was the one with the car.
The little hall was packed, and Sam went over to Deliriou5? (I can't help saying it like that), who hugged him, patted him on the shoulders and the like, and looked all chummy. I looked around at the audience; not a very rock 'n' roll audience, in truth. The gig began and they had some kind of projector, like the ones you get at school, displaying the lyrics: "Father God, you heard the prayer; From deep within my spirit cried; If there's a God, come rescue me; Now here I stand, I'm saved by grace." That's quite Goddy, I thought.
Not as Goddy as it got just before the interval. A song ended in clouds of feedback... feedback that just kept feeding back. And as it fed and fed and fed, the singer raised his arms out straight on each side and began to mutter... "Thank you Jesus... thank you Jesus..." To my horror, the people around me began to raise their arms too, all murmuring "Thank you Jesus... Thank you Jesus." I looked across at Stephen. He wasn't murmering. "Thank you Jesus!", I thought.
The interval arrived and I was out of there like an atheist. A slightly shaken atheist at that. Stephen stayed. It got weirder. I think someone was cured of Leukemia or something like that. [I invite him to elaborate in the comments.]
Fast forward 14 years and they're playing Petőfi Csarnok. I don't know if it's likely to be quite as intense but, if someone suggests that you go, and you're not a religious nutcase, don't say that you haven't been warned. On the other hand, it is their farewell tour, so if you're looking for God in the form of mediocre rock, it might be a while before the chance comes again. Tickets here.
delirious; delerious, delirius, delerius
Andy Sz.Animal Collective Interview, Bratislava, 17/10/08
0 comments Published by hub culture on Tuesday, 21 October 2008 at 10:09
Shame on Hungary for not bringing Animal Collective to their capital city. This band, originally from Baltimore but at present split between Portugal and the States, are producing some of the most innovative rock music around. And recently, they've been churning it out faster than Hartley's can make jam.
Their current tour has taken them to Slovakia, Vienna, and Poland, but not Budapest - Animal Collective wanted to play here but just couldn't sort out a gig. Still, that wasn't going to stop us. Last week we made the three hour trip to Bratislava for what turned out to be a stunningly good concert, and beforehand, thehub joined up with Dave Porter (aka Avey Tare) to discuss the tour, the new album, and Crayola crayons.
__________________________________Their current tour has taken them to Slovakia, Vienna, and Poland, but not Budapest - Animal Collective wanted to play here but just couldn't sort out a gig. Still, that wasn't going to stop us. Last week we made the three hour trip to Bratislava for what turned out to be a stunningly good concert, and beforehand, thehub joined up with Dave Porter (aka Avey Tare) to discuss the tour, the new album, and Crayola crayons.
Hub: How’s it all been going?
Dave Porter: Yeah, well. The tour’s been pretty good.
H: It’s an interesting set of locations. A lot of people skip this part of the world.
DP: I think we always make a point, even in the US, of not going back to the same places. It’s not like we have anything against going anywhere but it can get a bit monotonous. A lot of people message us and say 'why don’t you come here', or 'why don’t you play there…'
H: Have you had a lot of people requesting you to come here?
DP: Bratislava I don’t know, I couldn’t tell you about specific places but for a while now, maybe like a year or two years, we’ve wanted to do a Central and Eastern European tour just because we never get over this way.
H: What did you expect before you came?
DP: I didn’t know what to expect, definitely not as big crowds or as much enthusiasm as we’ve seen so far. I guess only now we’re getting to the heart of places we’ve never been to. We’ve been to Poland and Vienna before and the shows there were great this time too, even better, a lot crazier than I expected. It seems like it's been mostly sold out.
H: A lot of people won’t have seen you before. Has that affected what you do in your sets?
DP: Not really, we’ve been playing the same set of songs now since last Spring when we started writing our new record and we always try to play a lot of new material live. Over the year we’ve been throwing in a lot of old songs as well to mix it up a little, so it doesn’t feel like we’re playing the same set over and over again. We have like 26 songs we can play. We’ve been playing them so much and touring so much that we’re jamming a little bit more.
H: You’ve finished the new album [Merriweather Post Pavilion, due in January]. Is that mainly what you’re playing now?
DP: I’d say half of our set is stuff from the record.
H: And given that you always work ahead, are you performing anything newer than the new album at the moment?
DP: No. We’re working on this visual project. In terms of new material, we’ve been spending a lot of time on that lately and we hope to finish the musical part by December - we’ve got some studio time then. It’s the first time we’ve ever written a lot of new material that we’re not going to play live any time soon. We haven’t really had a lot of time with wanting to just be at home.
H: About the new record, was the writing and recording for Merriweather Post Pavilion similar to Strawberry Jam?
DP: No, not really. Strawberry Jam when we started was a little bit more open ended. We were going on tour for Feels and decided to write some new material for that. It was kind of haphazard at first because we had our initial writing session for Strawberry Jam in Lisbon. It took a little while to get used to the environment - we had a lot of problems with the studio space there and I think that contributed to it being a slower process. With the new one we had a bunch of ideas and we were enthusiastic to start writing as soon as we were done recording Strawberry Jam. Noah [Panda Bear] and I sent demos and melodies to each other and to Brian [Geologist]. Josh [Deakin] had decided that he didn’t want to tour for a while which pretty much meant we started to work on a new record without him. So it was a little bit different. We wrote most of it really quickly and the first tour after Strawberry Jam we had foundations for almost all of the songs.
H: Did that have anything to do with it being your second record on Domino and being more comfortable with them?
DP: I think it was just knowing more what we wanted to do going into it, whereas with Strawberry Jam when we first started writing the songs we didn’t know what was going to go on the record or even what kind of record it would be. This one we had a clear picture. [Various MPP tracks here, here, here, and here].
H: With your aliases and the kind of music you play, Animal Collective seem like a band that could distance yourself from your fans but in fact, with the bootlegs and so on, it’s the complete opposite. You’re very accessible. Is that something you’ve wanted from the beginning?
DP: Sort of, I think it goes in both directions. When we started it wasn’t even called Animal Collective. We wanted the name of the band on the record to be whoever was playing, like Avey Tare and Panda Bear, so it would just be the label Animal that put out our records. Starting to tour more it became Animal Collective because we needed a name. We thought it would be better for people to recognise us. We had this back and forth between wanting there to be a bit of mystery. With the records and the music we don’t like to divulge too much information. We like to keep this kind of mystique about the records, to be their own world, their own environment so we don’t really talk about how they’re recorded. I don’t think we’d ever do one of those ’Animal Collective in the Studio’ things. For us it’s got to be this slightly mysterious world.
H: It seems like a happy medium, not too much and not too little.
DP: Yeah. At the same time we’re like, just normal guys. It was always really important to us that we didn’t have like a rock and roll attitude, like we’re above everybody else. We wanted to go beyond that and have it as an experience that everybody shared together musically. Talking to people and hanging out with people when we can is part of that.
H: In many ways, it seems like you guys can do no wrong. Almost everything written about you is positive. Do you feel pressure from that or is it something that doesn't register, perhaps because you’re in the middle of it?
DP: Pressure only to deliver certain things, information for example. We have this message board that’s popular for fans to write on and I started to kind of distance myself from that, because being a part of it so much can affect the way you think about things. People can write what they like but for me personally, it’s not really any of my business.
H: It was probably different when you weren’t so popular…
DP: Maybe a little bit. It’s cool to be involved in some form and it’s a good source of information. It’s cool that fans can ask questions and we can go on it but at the same time, it’s not really an important part of the music making process.
H: You've become a household name. Is that something you think about?
DP: Not really, we just feel pressure to write records that we’re excited about, because we’ve been doing it for so long. Getting larger has always gone at a natural pace. There was a point when we put out Sung Tongs and we’d go to a 200 capacity club and suddenly it was sold out. It was like wow, people are coming out to see us. We always wanted that to happen and always wanted as many people as possible to be into our music but you never really know where it’s going to go.
H: Is playing these smaller European venues a way of revisiting your early days?
DP: In a way. The past couple of European tours I’ve felt we were breaking through. It helps to have all these songs out there on the internet. It’s crazy to go somewhere and people know songs that you haven’t put out on a record. It blows our minds. When we put out Strawberry Jam, I felt there were places in Europe that we still needed to crack.
H: Funny to hear an American artist talking about ‘cracking’ Eastern Europe…
DP: Yeah, in America we instantly started to tour. Back then it was before the internet became a really popular tool, so touring was the only way of getting our band known. It was easy just to hop in a van for two or three weeks, but we had to find a way of managing that because the States is so big.
H: Have you guys been having fun being in smaller cities here?
DP: It’s hard because the time and the set up that we have is intense and long, so it’s a lot of work. This tour we’ve been trying to go out to bars and stuff after the shows, to talk to people and hang out.
H: One last thing, I wanted to ask you about your commercial.
DP: Yeah, for Crayola.
H: I had the TV on one day and I saw it and was like, I know that song, it’s Sweet Road. How did that come about?
DP: We get offered commercials all the time. Our publisher wants us to make money, obviously, but it’s not really something we’re enthusiastic about, attaching our music to somebody else’s product.
H: Well, a lot of parents would be probably be delighted to hear Animal Collective. I applaud you for it.
DP: Yeah, it’s the only one we’ve ever done. But I guess Crayola crayons were always pretty important for me growing up…
__________________________________
A fresh box of colourful crayons isn't a bad analogy for Animal Collective's music - playful and raucous, experimental and complex - however you choose to describe it, there's certainly a hell of a lot of colours in there. And from what we've heard, it should be a happy new year. Merriweather Post Pavilion is going to be a bumper 150 crayon pack.
(Interview:Andy T, Jacob P
Photos: Jacob P)
DP: Bratislava I don’t know, I couldn’t tell you about specific places but for a while now, maybe like a year or two years, we’ve wanted to do a Central and Eastern European tour just because we never get over this way.
H: What did you expect before you came?
DP: I didn’t know what to expect, definitely not as big crowds or as much enthusiasm as we’ve seen so far. I guess only now we’re getting to the heart of places we’ve never been to. We’ve been to Poland and Vienna before and the shows there were great this time too, even better, a lot crazier than I expected. It seems like it's been mostly sold out.
H: A lot of people won’t have seen you before. Has that affected what you do in your sets?
DP: Not really, we’ve been playing the same set of songs now since last Spring when we started writing our new record and we always try to play a lot of new material live. Over the year we’ve been throwing in a lot of old songs as well to mix it up a little, so it doesn’t feel like we’re playing the same set over and over again. We have like 26 songs we can play. We’ve been playing them so much and touring so much that we’re jamming a little bit more.
H: You’ve finished the new album [Merriweather Post Pavilion, due in January]. Is that mainly what you’re playing now?
DP: I’d say half of our set is stuff from the record.
H: And given that you always work ahead, are you performing anything newer than the new album at the moment?
DP: No. We’re working on this visual project. In terms of new material, we’ve been spending a lot of time on that lately and we hope to finish the musical part by December - we’ve got some studio time then. It’s the first time we’ve ever written a lot of new material that we’re not going to play live any time soon. We haven’t really had a lot of time with wanting to just be at home.
H: About the new record, was the writing and recording for Merriweather Post Pavilion similar to Strawberry Jam?
DP: No, not really. Strawberry Jam when we started was a little bit more open ended. We were going on tour for Feels and decided to write some new material for that. It was kind of haphazard at first because we had our initial writing session for Strawberry Jam in Lisbon. It took a little while to get used to the environment - we had a lot of problems with the studio space there and I think that contributed to it being a slower process. With the new one we had a bunch of ideas and we were enthusiastic to start writing as soon as we were done recording Strawberry Jam. Noah [Panda Bear] and I sent demos and melodies to each other and to Brian [Geologist]. Josh [Deakin] had decided that he didn’t want to tour for a while which pretty much meant we started to work on a new record without him. So it was a little bit different. We wrote most of it really quickly and the first tour after Strawberry Jam we had foundations for almost all of the songs.
H: Did that have anything to do with it being your second record on Domino and being more comfortable with them?
DP: I think it was just knowing more what we wanted to do going into it, whereas with Strawberry Jam when we first started writing the songs we didn’t know what was going to go on the record or even what kind of record it would be. This one we had a clear picture. [Various MPP tracks here, here, here, and here].
H: With your aliases and the kind of music you play, Animal Collective seem like a band that could distance yourself from your fans but in fact, with the bootlegs and so on, it’s the complete opposite. You’re very accessible. Is that something you’ve wanted from the beginning?
DP: Sort of, I think it goes in both directions. When we started it wasn’t even called Animal Collective. We wanted the name of the band on the record to be whoever was playing, like Avey Tare and Panda Bear, so it would just be the label Animal that put out our records. Starting to tour more it became Animal Collective because we needed a name. We thought it would be better for people to recognise us. We had this back and forth between wanting there to be a bit of mystery. With the records and the music we don’t like to divulge too much information. We like to keep this kind of mystique about the records, to be their own world, their own environment so we don’t really talk about how they’re recorded. I don’t think we’d ever do one of those ’Animal Collective in the Studio’ things. For us it’s got to be this slightly mysterious world.
H: It seems like a happy medium, not too much and not too little.
DP: Yeah. At the same time we’re like, just normal guys. It was always really important to us that we didn’t have like a rock and roll attitude, like we’re above everybody else. We wanted to go beyond that and have it as an experience that everybody shared together musically. Talking to people and hanging out with people when we can is part of that.
H: In many ways, it seems like you guys can do no wrong. Almost everything written about you is positive. Do you feel pressure from that or is it something that doesn't register, perhaps because you’re in the middle of it?
DP: Pressure only to deliver certain things, information for example. We have this message board that’s popular for fans to write on and I started to kind of distance myself from that, because being a part of it so much can affect the way you think about things. People can write what they like but for me personally, it’s not really any of my business.
H: It was probably different when you weren’t so popular…
DP: Maybe a little bit. It’s cool to be involved in some form and it’s a good source of information. It’s cool that fans can ask questions and we can go on it but at the same time, it’s not really an important part of the music making process.
H: You've become a household name. Is that something you think about?
DP: Not really, we just feel pressure to write records that we’re excited about, because we’ve been doing it for so long. Getting larger has always gone at a natural pace. There was a point when we put out Sung Tongs and we’d go to a 200 capacity club and suddenly it was sold out. It was like wow, people are coming out to see us. We always wanted that to happen and always wanted as many people as possible to be into our music but you never really know where it’s going to go.
H: Is playing these smaller European venues a way of revisiting your early days?
DP: In a way. The past couple of European tours I’ve felt we were breaking through. It helps to have all these songs out there on the internet. It’s crazy to go somewhere and people know songs that you haven’t put out on a record. It blows our minds. When we put out Strawberry Jam, I felt there were places in Europe that we still needed to crack.
H: Funny to hear an American artist talking about ‘cracking’ Eastern Europe…
DP: Yeah, in America we instantly started to tour. Back then it was before the internet became a really popular tool, so touring was the only way of getting our band known. It was easy just to hop in a van for two or three weeks, but we had to find a way of managing that because the States is so big.
H: Have you guys been having fun being in smaller cities here?
DP: It’s hard because the time and the set up that we have is intense and long, so it’s a lot of work. This tour we’ve been trying to go out to bars and stuff after the shows, to talk to people and hang out.
H: One last thing, I wanted to ask you about your commercial.
DP: Yeah, for Crayola.
H: I had the TV on one day and I saw it and was like, I know that song, it’s Sweet Road. How did that come about?
DP: We get offered commercials all the time. Our publisher wants us to make money, obviously, but it’s not really something we’re enthusiastic about, attaching our music to somebody else’s product.
H: Well, a lot of parents would be probably be delighted to hear Animal Collective. I applaud you for it.
DP: Yeah, it’s the only one we’ve ever done. But I guess Crayola crayons were always pretty important for me growing up…
__________________________________
A fresh box of colourful crayons isn't a bad analogy for Animal Collective's music - playful and raucous, experimental and complex - however you choose to describe it, there's certainly a hell of a lot of colours in there. And from what we've heard, it should be a happy new year. Merriweather Post Pavilion is going to be a bumper 150 crayon pack.
(Interview:Andy T, Jacob P
Photos: Jacob P)
Truly Worldly, Deeply: World Press Photo Exhibition
0 comments Published by hub culture on Saturday, 4 October 2008 at 18:39Millenáris Fogadó,until 19th October
10:00 - 20:00
1800 HUF/adult; 840 HUF/student
Fény utca 20-22 [map] Buda, II, Moszkva tér (M2), 5 min
If you’ve been in Budapest for too long and yearn to travel around the world but only have a Sunday afternoon and a thousand or so forint to spare, fear not: World Press Photo 08 to the rescue.
The organization puts together the world’s most prestigious and well-traveled contest (the exhibition gets around to almost 50 countries) for excellence in photojournalism. The diverse pool of jurors is made up of experienced photographers and industry specialists from around the globe, which is reflected in the content of the show.There are plenty of truly astonishing photographs: Brent Stirton’s murdered gorilla in the Congo looks a lot like a film still from 1995's, Congo, a credit to them both. Clark Detrick’s shot of an eye-gouging on the court of a college basketball game is both lucky and stomach-churning, while Vanessa Winship’s black and white portraits of Turkish school girls hark back to the work of Diane Arbus. Chuck Close, a well known American artist, although not for his photography, contributes a welcome diversion in his daguerreotype portrait of current civil rights silhouette artist, Kara Walker, (work that one out.) Meanwhile, Yonathan Weitzman’s depiction of an African girl’s dress caught on barbed wire at the Israel/Egypt border will have you staring for more than a few seconds.
Hungarian photographers also stand out. Balazs Gardi took first prize in the General News category for his black and white shots covering the US and Afghan army in Afghanistan. Closer to home, Zsolt Szigetváry’s poignant shot of an injured gay couple at a parade in Budapest brings Hungary's own problems into the foreground.It is not necessarily the composition or the quality of the photography that earns a photograph high marks on World Press Photo’s list. Take John Moore’s first prize work in Spot News. His most important shots were extremely blurry, a result of his first-hand presence at the assassination - by way of suicide bombing - of Pakistani Prime Minister, Benazir Bhutto. The fact that he was able to make any photographs amidst the frenzy of the explosion makes for an incredible story.
This excellent exhibition is, however, not without its shortcomings. The building at Millenáris looks more like a warehouse or garage, with its gritty, untreated cement floors, making it feel like you’re looking at prestigious photographs while getting your car's oil changed. Many of the photos also seem to be of poor print quality (i.e., grainy, pixilated), though you may feel this is only a minor detraction.
The inclusion of some of the photos certainly pushes the limits of photojournalism: Travis Dove’s shots of famed US skateboarding anarchy haven, Skatopia, for example. The photographs suggest that the presence of a photographer wasn't exactly passive, which might not fit too well with photojournalism’s code of ethics.Nevertheless, it would take much more than a slightly dubious series of photos to detract from the wide ranging and superb content that is displayed in the majority of the exhibition.
Jacob P.
Louis Sclavis/MAO Review - Opening Night, MOL Jazz
0 comments Published by hub culture on Thursday, 18 September 2008 at 22:09
MUPA, 17th SeptemberKomor Marcell u. 1
Pest South, IX Millenniumi Kulturális Központ (T2) 3 min
For the tail-end of summer, yesterday was particularly bitter. The fact that the temperature here has plummeted may well have put the willies up the organisers of the MOL Jazz Festival - over the next three days, the festival shifts to a 'jazz tent' on the banks of the Danube.
That's a stones throw away from the buildings that house the awful, shiny clubs Buddha Beach and Inside but thankfully, last night’s Opening Gala was at the Palace of Arts - a venue that is shiny, not awful and most importantly inside, rather than near it. Only two acts were on the bill, which indicated that lessons might have been learnt from the previous year. 2007’s Opening Gala was a long concert, which felt like a long concert - not helped by an unnecessarily drawn-out set from excitable German vocalist Michael Schiefel, who liked the sound of his own voice so much that he looped it for half an hour. By the time the excellent Richard Galliano appeared, the audience had started to drift away.
The bulk of last night’s show was given over to a screening of Dans La Nuit, with Louis Sclavis performing his score live. It's a work which treads a fine line between jazz, classical, and incidental music - but more on that later.
There was no doubt about how to classify the opening act; the Modern Art Orchestra, an eighteen piece big band made up of some prodigiously talented Hungarian musicians. This was a powerful group, at its best when sticking to a more traditional big band sound, instead of the jazz-tinged contemporary composition which started the proceedings. Mid tempo, heavy on atmosphere, with lots of moody swells and murky chords - I was left with the impression that they were either building slowly, or keeping something in the tank.
Their set picked up with the introduction of 19-year old tenor saxophonist Gábor Bolla. After a breathless start, in which Bolla seemed intent on playing as many notes as he could, as fast as possible, it became breathless in a good way. The opening to their final piece, driven by some thunderous drumming, was a standout moment. While the MAO's performance might not have caught fire for any sustained period, at the very least their inclusion gave the programme a welcome balance.On to Sclavis then, whose music for Dans La Nuit, a 1929 silent film, was composed at the request of Bertrand Tavernier. It was a smart move that drew attention to Charles Vanel's neglected classic (even though the majority of people who have heard the album won’t have seen the movie). Personally, I've never felt this was one of Sclavis’ best records - I couldn’t shake the idea that rating it highly would be akin to calling Godfather II a masterpiece, after only having seen it with the sound off.
Rare, but undeservedly so - Dans La Nuit really is a fantastic film, the heartbreaking story of a man who shortly after getting married, suffers a gruesome accident which leaves him wearing a mask. Horrified, his wife starts an affair. There’s a patchy history of modern scores for silent movies, but it quickly became apparent that, as well as being one of the most important contemporary jazz musicians around, Sclavis is also an exceptionally gifted composer.
Listening to the CD requires you to fill in a hell of a lot of blanks. Military drums - some kind of army procession. A distant clarinet note over relentless percussion - a train...? After ten minutes, it was abundantly clear that I had all the wrong answers. In fact, the military drums underscore a procession after a wedding ceremony. A trembling, tense marimba solo in 'Mauvais Reve' fills what should be a joyous celebration with a sense of foreboding. The more meandering passages found a point and the recurring main theme, which I've always thought was archaic, folksy and really rather nice, became infinitely darker and more complex.
At times there was just too much to take in. The ensemble sat with their backs to the audience, but even so, I found my eyes drifting away from the screen and towards the musicians. They cut loose a lot more than I'd expected, with some brilliant, dissonant improvisation from the violinist, Dominique Pifarely. A virtuosic bass clarinet drone at the film's climax had my eyes on Sclavis rather than the action, but to single moments out is almost ridiculous - the playing was uniformly magnificent.Disappointingly, only the ground floor was open yesterday. The first and second floors were nearly empty, apart from a handful of photographers... and what’s with people leaving early at MUPA? Perhaps they knew about the film's sub-GCSE ‘it was all a dream’ ending, tacked on at the request of the studio. Anyway, it was a shame. This was a performance which warranted a full house, and raucous, heartfelt applause.
Words by Andy T.
Pictures by Jacob P.
Plenty of Penises to Go Around - Keith Haring at the Ludwig
0 comments Published by hub culture on Thursday, 11 September 2008 at 20:57
LUMU, until 16th November,1200 ft (discounts available)
Komor Marcell u. 1 [map]
Pest, IX, Boraros tér (T 4,6), 8 min
Hot on the heels of what would have been Keith Haring’s 50th birthday (4 May), Budapest’s Ludwig Museum of Contemporary Art has brought a prominent American artist’s work to Hungary.
The fact that most of the pieces in the Haring exhibition span only a few years is a bit of a disappointment but you can hardly hold that against the Ludwig — AIDS tragically and bitterly cut his life short seventeen years ago, at the ripe age of 31. Having said that, while there are only so many fruitful years from an artist who dies young, the exhibition did seem to lack certain items that would have helped show the diversity in Haring’s graffiti-inspired expressions.
Although it isn’t billed as a retrospective, there is perhaps a simple solution: some of his famed chalk drawings from the NYC subways would have made it come close (if indeed, any were even saved or preserved). Instead the museum attempts to sum up Haring’s life with a pretty lacklustre timeline as you walk up the stairs. Check Keith striking a vogue with Madonna in that Polaroid! Wow-wee!
Haring’s work balances many aspects of living in America in the 1980s (New York City to be exact) — consumerism, the backlash against the advertising industry, the AIDS crisis, and race. Haring managed to pull this off without being preachy. Cheeky, yes, but fantastically so. The result is something extremely thought-provoking, certainly what the artist was shooting for in a time with so much cultural garbage.
One thing anyone will notice after stepping through the door is the prevalence of penises in probably 80% (my rough estimate) of his work. Any guy who can use that sheer amount of phallic representation, and continually come up with something new must have had something going on upstairs.
Personally, I’m a fan of art that doesn’t take you days to extract a deep meaning from and Haring’s use of well-known cultural symbols to drum up discourse is intelligent without being over-bearing. As far as I‘m concerned, Warhol never seemed to say that much, but Haring takes Warhol‘s ideas a step beyond.Take for example, one of the larger pieces from the show, Prophets of Rage, 1988. It’s homage to his buddy Jean-Michel Basquiat just before his fatal drug overdose. There’s a ton of cultural symbols: the oppressed black man, crumbling religion, a suffering and decapitated Jesus, power, money…. Point is, you can use signifiers to come up with something new that will remain relevant.
One of my biggest qualms with the exhibition in general is the fact that the main piece used in advertising it, 1982’s Untitled (the ‘red dog figure tossin’ around those two green dudes‘, as I like to call it) is grossly misrepresented in all of the promotional material for the show. If you’ve got a set of working eyes and have been in Budapest for any length of time, even an airport layover, then you’ll probably have seen some sort of publicity for the exhibition - specifically this piece.
Well, if you do go, check it out, not that you have any choice. This thing is NEON! NOT the primary red and yellow plastered onto posters all around Budapest. I’m talking spandex bicycle shorts, Day-Glo snap bracelets, “surfs up dude”, full on 80s neon. Maybe they didn’t want to spoil the vivid, eye-aching sensation of actually seeing the piece up close… although, I guess I just did.All told, Haring’s work is definitely worth a trip to the Ludwig, whether you're a fan, on the fence... or even if you just have absolutely no idea who this guy is.
Jacob P.
Budsucs - English Comedy in Budapest
0 comments Published by hub culture on Sunday, 31 August 2008 at 23:20Holdudvar, Margit sziget, [map]
Between Buda and Pest, II, Margit hid (T4/6), 5 min
Budsucs website/tickets here (usually hosted in Repeta Sarok)
It's Friday night and tonight, Budsucs occupies the usually calm space at the back of Holdudvar. The name is terrible but the cause is noble: English language comedy in Budapest.Now, I'm one of those people who's quite hard to please when it comes to comedians, so if you're not and you laugh at anything, don't bother with this review and just go anyway. Presumably, as the numbers swell, the selection of comedians that they can lure out here will multiply, so your very presence is a kind of pro-comedy demonstration. But for anyone who wants an idea of what to expect...
I can't look at a compère without thinking of Alexei Sayle's bumbling Bobby Chariot, who would have gone down well enough here, since people were generally geared-up/beered-up for laughing. This one was nothing out of the ordinary but in fairness, he was as sharp and as he needed to be, as he accosted members of the audience and ad-libbed some semi-offensive response or other. Swiftly on then to the comedians.
Brett Schafer is from LA but now lives in Budapest. That's pretty much his act, combined with a very nervy start. (It does look as though he's still finding his feet.) Like many Americans in Europe he felt the need to bang on about what people think about Americans, which was a bit irritating in my book. Perversely, people wanted to laugh, but they weren't really sure when they were supposed to.
Liam Mullone, on the other hand, had a relaxed, Izzard-esque approach and demonstrated the kind of standard Budsucs should be aiming for. I’d seen a bit of his material before (here), which he repeated on the night, and happily it stood up to a second hearing. Delivery is half the game in stand-up and whether you can make a list of Surf’s top stains funny or not is a good test. He did. He also enjoyed some banter with a dog in the audience (really, it was a dog), which demonstrated that rarest quality: wit. (The banter demonstrated the wit. The dog was a dullard.)Tinky Winky followed. He calls himself Dave Thompson now but he shot to fame when the BBC decided that the seven-foot Tellytubby wasn't behaving as a Tellytubby should. His “interpretation of the role was not acceptable”, apparently. The same charge might be levelled at him this evening as his comedy was distinctly hackneyed. He was persistent, certainly. Fearless, yes. But even this kindest of audiences was groaning more than laughing. “Men are twenty times more likely to get cancer of the testicles... I’m happy to say all three of mine are fine.” It was like watching The Comedians. Plenty of jokes with a one percent hit-rate. BBC, please reinstate him.
So what does that say about Budsucs? Judging by Liam Mullone’s last minute revision of his notepad at the bar, it’s probably a bit daunting to come out and test the audience here: an unknown that many comedians can live without. And although Dave Thompson didn’t do a lot for me, he has at least got some kind of credentials, having worked with Harry Hill, Dipsy, La La and Po. A mixed bag of comedians, therefore, was still enough to show that Budsucs is doing something right. Overall: entertaining and, crucially, it puts Budapest on the comedy circuit.
budsucks bud sucs sucks
Andy Sz.
Liam Mullone is on the telly on Wednesday 3rd September (Sky News) and doing the rounds in the UK. Dates here.
Brett Schafer will crop up at Budsucs again, I’m sure.
One recent Hungarian film I’ve heard an awful lot about is the subway system drama Kontroll. Released in 2003, this was a big domestic hit for director Nimród Antal who immediately bought a single ticket to Hollywood, where he went on to make this rubbish.
On paper though, Kontroll sounds interesting. A film set in the world of miserable Budapest ticket controllers? A critique, perhaps, of the much-maligned Hungarian public transport system, shot on location? Sign me up.
Sadly, Kontroll isn’t very good at all. In fact, it’s a tiresome mess, hovering uneasily between quirky comedy, quirky thriller and quirky romance, the lack of a clear focus giving the unfortunate impression that Nimród was making it all up as he went along. I suppose that ultimately, it would fall into the category of a ‘yoof’ movie, a little like Doug Liman’s Go, or more worryingly, any of Guy Ritchie’s empty, London-based films. The action is frenetically edited, and underscored by a thumping, but lame soundtrack from NEO, which constantly reminds you that if you aren’t under 25 you probably won't get the most out of this film.
Kontroll tells the story of a group of ticket collectors, led by Bulcsú (Sándor Csányi), a man who works, sleeps, and lives in the subway …(although he doesn’t, as far as I can recall, eat Subway). The rest of his crew are a weird bunch of freaks - there’s a convincingly shabby, moustachioed controller, a grizzled veteran, a narcoleptic, and the thick new boy who, for no reason whatsoever, has wheels in the bottom of his shoes. The other characters aren’t much better - we’re introduced to a pretty girl who wears a bear costume (for no reason whatsoever), a rival crew of controllers who hate Bulcsú’s gang (for no reason whatsoever), and a psychotic maniac who pushes pedestrians under trains (for no reaso…. pfffff. You get the idea).
With very little in the way of character development, the film ends up wearing its weirdness like a badge, the sprawling, claustrophobic underground system reminiscent of the effectively bizarre worlds created by Jeunet et Caro, or Terry Gilliam’s Brazil. Only, Nimród’s underground world seems flimsy and pointless - in my book, ten genre-hopping sub-plots don’t make a story. So... Bulcsú is afraid to leave the underground system… where he has these ‘hilarious’ encounters with passengers…. and everyone thinks he’s the pedestrian-pushing maniac... but, he falls in love… 'oooookaaay.' Finally though, so what? I was left firmly stranded at the station.
It’s in the comic sections that Kontroll disappoints the most. Nimród opts for an unimaginative montage technique, and sets up a series of familiar encounters between controllers and ticketless passengers, Japanese tourists, and beautiful women… then, rather than writing funny material, makes everybody SHOUT! It’s like being stuck in a lift with a boisterous six year old.
Interestingly, the film opens with a monologue from a BKV spokesperson who embraces, but also distances himself from ‘his friend’ Antal’s film. There certainly is a clever satire to be made about the flawed underground system here in Budapest, but this isn‘t it. How about a movie which tells the story of controller with a heart of gold, who cares about the passengers, doesn’t take great delight in finding people who are without a valid pass, and genuinely loves his job? Now that, I’d buy a ticket for.
Andy T.
Sadly, Kontroll isn’t very good at all. In fact, it’s a tiresome mess, hovering uneasily between quirky comedy, quirky thriller and quirky romance, the lack of a clear focus giving the unfortunate impression that Nimród was making it all up as he went along. I suppose that ultimately, it would fall into the category of a ‘yoof’ movie, a little like Doug Liman’s Go, or more worryingly, any of Guy Ritchie’s empty, London-based films. The action is frenetically edited, and underscored by a thumping, but lame soundtrack from NEO, which constantly reminds you that if you aren’t under 25 you probably won't get the most out of this film.
Kontroll tells the story of a group of ticket collectors, led by Bulcsú (Sándor Csányi), a man who works, sleeps, and lives in the subway …(although he doesn’t, as far as I can recall, eat Subway). The rest of his crew are a weird bunch of freaks - there’s a convincingly shabby, moustachioed controller, a grizzled veteran, a narcoleptic, and the thick new boy who, for no reason whatsoever, has wheels in the bottom of his shoes. The other characters aren’t much better - we’re introduced to a pretty girl who wears a bear costume (for no reason whatsoever), a rival crew of controllers who hate Bulcsú’s gang (for no reason whatsoever), and a psychotic maniac who pushes pedestrians under trains (for no reaso…. pfffff. You get the idea).
With very little in the way of character development, the film ends up wearing its weirdness like a badge, the sprawling, claustrophobic underground system reminiscent of the effectively bizarre worlds created by Jeunet et Caro, or Terry Gilliam’s Brazil. Only, Nimród’s underground world seems flimsy and pointless - in my book, ten genre-hopping sub-plots don’t make a story. So... Bulcsú is afraid to leave the underground system… where he has these ‘hilarious’ encounters with passengers…. and everyone thinks he’s the pedestrian-pushing maniac... but, he falls in love… 'oooookaaay.' Finally though, so what? I was left firmly stranded at the station.
It’s in the comic sections that Kontroll disappoints the most. Nimród opts for an unimaginative montage technique, and sets up a series of familiar encounters between controllers and ticketless passengers, Japanese tourists, and beautiful women… then, rather than writing funny material, makes everybody SHOUT! It’s like being stuck in a lift with a boisterous six year old.
Interestingly, the film opens with a monologue from a BKV spokesperson who embraces, but also distances himself from ‘his friend’ Antal’s film. There certainly is a clever satire to be made about the flawed underground system here in Budapest, but this isn‘t it. How about a movie which tells the story of controller with a heart of gold, who cares about the passengers, doesn’t take great delight in finding people who are without a valid pass, and genuinely loves his job? Now that, I’d buy a ticket for.
Andy T.
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
1 comments Published by hub culture on Tuesday, 3 June 2008 at 18:21
These days, the word ‘Lucasfilm’ popping up as part of the opening credits should act as a bit of a warning to thoughtful cinema-goers. George Lucas is, after all, a man who spent years manufacturing Star Wars sequels that added nothing to his original series, apart from a slight sense of confusion whenever anyone discusses which number film they like best. And, following the 20th anniversary cut of ET, in which Spielberg used computer effects to magically remove much of the film‘s charm, you’d be forgiven for either avoiding this fourth instalment of Indiana Jones altogether, or at least, approaching it with caution.
However, when all is said and done, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull does manage to stay fairly true to the spirit of the first three films. Everything is present and correct - a sweeping score from John Williams, a globe-trotting story, the red map thing, snakes, massive cobwebs, and Harrison Ford, who turns in an energetic performance.
His Last Crusade was set in 1938, and the next one starts in 1957, at a top secret base in Nevada. There, a gang of Russians led by Cate Blanchett as Colonel Irina Spalko, a mind reader, want to snatch an alien corpse whose skull will give unimaginable powers to whoever returns it to the lost city of El Dorado. (This, by the way, is all part of Stalin’s loopy pre-occupation with opening up ‘a new frontier in psychic warfare'). From there, the story spirals right out of control, taking in the McCarthy era, Roswell, the Cold War and the atomic bomb, like some kind of frantic mash-up of 1950’s American history. Making mental shopping lists is probably a better use of your time than actually trying to follow it - the dialogue's main purpose seems solely to act as a bridge between the chase sequences, of which there are many.
Along the way, Indy picks up a ragtag bunch of adventurers - there’s a sidekick played by Shia LaBeouf, a young man who has his strange name out-stranged by a very strange haircut. John Hurt appears as barmy old coot Prof ‘Ox’ Oxley, ‘Mac‘ (Ray Winstone), does his best to jovially shout everyone else off the screen, and there’s a welcome return for Karen Allen as Indy’s long lost love.
Watching ancient temples, blowpipe-toting natives, and secret doors that swing mysteriously open, I was left with a firm feeling that not only had I seen all this before, but every box had been carefully ticked. Screenwriter David Koepp makes no real attempt to update the formula, other than adding copious in-jokes, and disappointingly, Spielberg demonstrates very little in the way of genuine inspiration. Even the best scene, in which Indy stumbles across a fake town about to be blown to smithereens by a nuclear test, looks partly pilfered from the remake of The Hills Have Eyes.
What Lucas and Spielberg are intent on providing their audience with is an overdose of nostalgia - pointed shots of Indy’s hat and whip remind us this is a revival of an iconic film series, that in itself was an update of 30's adventure serials, which is then blended together with a relentless parade of 1950’s images and references.
I suppose your enjoyment of all this depends an awful lot on how far your goodwill towards Indy can take you. For me, it lasted about thirty minutes - after that, any dewy-eyed nostalgia disappeared, to be replaced with restlessness and ultimately, a touch of melancholy. As far as I'm concerned, two hours of watching a 65-year old man leap about in the jungle is just long enough to remind me that nobody - you, me, Ford, Spielberg, Lucas, Allen, John Hurt (especially John Hurt, in fact) - is getting any younger.
Andy T.
Equus - English Theatre in Budapest
0 comments Published by hub culture on Thursday, 15 May 2008 at 13:24
Zöld Macska Diákpince
Pest South, IX, Üllői út 95 [map]
Klinikák (M3), 1 min
A complex psychological drama about a disturbed teenager is not the most obvious choice for the first play from a new production company. The decision to cast Hungarians in the lead roles of an English-language play might also raise eyebrows.
A little more detail doesn't make the prospects any rosier: Leo Ilyés, who plays psychiatrist, Martin Dysart, and Miklós Béres, who plays the troubled Alan Strang, have never performed in English before. Leo has to tackle several monologues while Miklós has a nude scene to handle. The auditorium is a cellar in a bar and the props are largely constructed from wire and bits of cardboard.
All of this sounds suspiciously like a recipe for disaster, but by ten o'clock, it's clear that the whole thing has worked out remarkably well.
The reason for this is that director, Rhett Stevens, knows what he's doing. His casting of Hungarians in English roles isn't as daft as it seems: actors who can handle the roles are rather more important than British accents. Also, it has lent the cast a sense of community and the play a wider purpose.
Leo explained his initial trepidation: "At the casting, Rhett asked me to read from an English text, and I looked at it and thought: I can't do it. I must have been pretty bad but he must have liked something." Leo also praised the entire cast who together helped him master the demands of the script, providing a full immersion environment to help develop his English.
Stevens' casting throughout is spot-on; I can't imagine the central characters in each other's roles. Miklós makes a convincing Alan. From boyish glee through teenage obstinacy, ecstasy and embarrassment, his delivery is excellent. He takes the role in his stride: whether getting into the mindset of a disturbed teenager or taking his clothes off in a packed but tiny auditorium. "I didn't even think about thinking about it", he says.
The production too is commendable. Humming sound effects, provided by the cast, are ominous and exciting at the same time, while the lighting feels professional despite the limited facilities. Moreover, the minimalist horse-riding scenes truly capture the imagination.
Equus is by no means perfect. There are a few fluffed lines here and there, some of the acting feels a little conscious, and the Hungarian accents are, at times, demanding for an English audience - although Stevens points out that the opposite is true for the Hungarian contingent.
This, in itself, alludes to the clear success of the production: Equus serves everybody. Both Hungarian and English audiences have a chance to see an ambitious English-language production, with absolutely no intention of dumbing down the script. Development of the actors is also mutually beneficial for Hungarians moving into English roles and English-speakers moving into acting.
The current run at Zöld Macska has just two performances left and if you're looking for gripping theatre, you'll get your money's worth at 1400Ft a ticket. But what next for Equus? Stevens hopes that Equus will pop up again for a few one-off performances but after the summer he'll turn his mind to a second production. He ponders for a moment... "I'd like to do a comedy."
The remaining performances of Equus take place at Zöld Macska on 21st and 24th May, just across the road from the Klinikák metro stop on Line 3. Full details, cast and tickets here.
Equs, Echus, Echuus, Equous
Andy Sz.
A little more detail doesn't make the prospects any rosier: Leo Ilyés, who plays psychiatrist, Martin Dysart, and Miklós Béres, who plays the troubled Alan Strang, have never performed in English before. Leo has to tackle several monologues while Miklós has a nude scene to handle. The auditorium is a cellar in a bar and the props are largely constructed from wire and bits of cardboard.
All of this sounds suspiciously like a recipe for disaster, but by ten o'clock, it's clear that the whole thing has worked out remarkably well.
The reason for this is that director, Rhett Stevens, knows what he's doing. His casting of Hungarians in English roles isn't as daft as it seems: actors who can handle the roles are rather more important than British accents. Also, it has lent the cast a sense of community and the play a wider purpose.
Leo explained his initial trepidation: "At the casting, Rhett asked me to read from an English text, and I looked at it and thought: I can't do it. I must have been pretty bad but he must have liked something." Leo also praised the entire cast who together helped him master the demands of the script, providing a full immersion environment to help develop his English.
Stevens' casting throughout is spot-on; I can't imagine the central characters in each other's roles. Miklós makes a convincing Alan. From boyish glee through teenage obstinacy, ecstasy and embarrassment, his delivery is excellent. He takes the role in his stride: whether getting into the mindset of a disturbed teenager or taking his clothes off in a packed but tiny auditorium. "I didn't even think about thinking about it", he says.
The production too is commendable. Humming sound effects, provided by the cast, are ominous and exciting at the same time, while the lighting feels professional despite the limited facilities. Moreover, the minimalist horse-riding scenes truly capture the imagination.Equus is by no means perfect. There are a few fluffed lines here and there, some of the acting feels a little conscious, and the Hungarian accents are, at times, demanding for an English audience - although Stevens points out that the opposite is true for the Hungarian contingent.
This, in itself, alludes to the clear success of the production: Equus serves everybody. Both Hungarian and English audiences have a chance to see an ambitious English-language production, with absolutely no intention of dumbing down the script. Development of the actors is also mutually beneficial for Hungarians moving into English roles and English-speakers moving into acting.
The current run at Zöld Macska has just two performances left and if you're looking for gripping theatre, you'll get your money's worth at 1400Ft a ticket. But what next for Equus? Stevens hopes that Equus will pop up again for a few one-off performances but after the summer he'll turn his mind to a second production. He ponders for a moment... "I'd like to do a comedy."
The remaining performances of Equus take place at Zöld Macska on 21st and 24th May, just across the road from the Klinikák metro stop on Line 3. Full details, cast and tickets here.
Equs, Echus, Echuus, Equous
Andy Sz.
I’ve never quite been sure what VAM Design on Kiraly really is. It opened as an art gallery, but it’s not a very convincing one - the small rooms on either side of the cavernous, covered courtyard look to have more in common with a furniture shop than the Ludwig Muzeum.In recent months, evenings have seen it become a different kind of animal altogether; a swanky corporate venue, hosting speeches and dinners for such cash-strapped companies as Cosmopolitan. Then, last Tuesday, this jack of all caps added another feather to its bow, staging a concert from ex-Kraftwerk member Karl Bartos.
That night, VAM was nowhere near full, and the crowd was pretty unmoved. It might have had something to do with the sound system being a little inadequate - from the back or even the middle of the room, the music lacked weight, drifting up to the pink baubles which dangled from VAM’s high roof.
As for Bartos, the stuff from Kraftwerk really stood out, which is testament to how forward thinking their music really was. Still, for my liking, his set tended to stray a little too close to a not-very-danceable form of tech house, which moved nobody to dance. A little disappointing, even if it did come from a man who occasionally looked like he was having difficulty printing something out from Google maps. You could say the same about the visual part too, which featured scenes from Tron and Taxi Driver. The former surely, must be one of the first things a VJ learns to loop.
Overall though, it was a passable gig, and probably worth it for a scene I witnessed at 1 am. I was heading home, when a middle-aged woman marched past me on the street, towards VAM, her slippers slapping grumpily against the pavement. At the entrance, she stopped, bawled at the security guards, then stormed away, her flowery nightdress blowing behind her in the wind. Poor lamb, I thought … she can’t have had any idea that the man making all that racket was old enough to be her husband.
Anyway, here are a couple of pictures…
Andy T.
Our first music video post had a gypsy/balkan theme and, as much as I'd like to pretend there's a thread running through this one, there really isn't. In fact, this second round-up is more like a tasty sandwich made with spectacularly rubbish bread...
1) Speak the Hungarian Rapper - Hold On
Last year, Speak conquered the world wide web with his staggering anti-war video. This sophomore effort is almost as bad, and raises a couple of questions - is Speak actually a trailblazer, breaking new ground as the first ever non-rapping rapper? And crucially, is he in on the joke? One look at this godawful fusion of opera and 'rap' leaves you with just one answer. Yes. Probably.
2) Lajkó Félix - Ciklus
Lajkó Félix's virtuosic violin-playing, set to an intricate stop-motion animation. Short, sweet and technically impressive, this looks horribly out of place next to the other artists on this page. Still, at least I'm not programming a music festival.
3) MC Hawer es Tekknő - Jaj de jo
This final video is an oddly catchy, tightly constructed techno masterpiece from the ubiquitous MC Hawer. It's a dark basement, two men shout something about pigs, dance around one, then pick up legs and pretend they're musical instruments. If you're on iWiW, it's possible to make friends with Hawer. But would you really want to?
Titanic International Film Festival, April
0 comments Published by hub culture on Saturday, 22 March 2008 at 15:24
‘Since its maiden voyage in 1993, Budapest’s international film festival has refused to live up to its name and sink'. Dearie me. That sentence, lifted from the Titanic film festival’s official website, hardly fills you with confidence. Not exactly the kind of thing you'd expect to read in say, London or Berlin.
But don’t be put off. Assuming nothing goes wrong, this year’s Titanic film festival is scheduled to take place between the 3rd and 13th of April. If the prints arrive, Titanic will show 65 films from around the world and screenings will take place in four cinemas throughout Budapest (as long as they don't burn down). The winning film will also receive a prize of 10,000 euro which hopefully, won't get stolen.
In all seriousness, the full program was published a couple of days ago, and nearer the time, we'll be putting a number of the films on our events diary. For now though, here are 12 highlights, English language films first...
____________________________________________________________
1) In the Valley of Elah
(US , 2007, Paul Haggis)
Crash may have been outrageously contrived guff but Paul Haggis' follow up is a powerful film, which isn't afraid of irritating the current US administration. Tommy Lee Jones plays a father investigating his son's disappearance at a military base. Review here.
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2) Rescue Dawn (US, 2006, Werner Herzog)
Herzog's adaptation of his own documentary, Little Dieter Needs to Fly, tells the story of a soldier escaping from a POW camp in Laos. His first American film, it's typical Herzog, tense and harrowing. Christian Bale stars, reviews here.
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3) This is England(GB, 2006, Shane Meadows)
Semi-autobiographical picture from Shane Meadows, about a young boy who gets sucked into the skinhead movement in early eighties Lincolnshire. One of his better efforts, by all accounts.
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4) Shotgun Stories(US, 2007, Jeff Nichols)
Low-budget American Indie, currently doing the rounds on the festival circuit. Produced by David Gordon Green, this story of a feud between two half brothers has been well received so far. One to keep an eye on, perhaps.
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5) The Other Side of the Mirror(US, 2007, Murray Lerner)
Unlike Todd Haynes, who chose to present six people who are not Bob Dylan, Murray Lerner sticks with the real thing. This documentary is made up of concert footage from Newport Folk Festival, when Dylan shocked the world by going electric.
____________________________________________________________
The next seven films are foreign language, but I'm reliably informed that the majority are festival prints, which usually have English subtitles. Check with the cinema beforehand...
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6) Matsugane Potshot Affair(Japan, 2007, Nobuhiro Yamashita)
Black comedy about the discovery of a body in a sleepy Japanese town. A bit too dark to do well anywhere other than festivals. Apparently, it's a bit like Fargo, directed by Kaurismaki.
____________________________________________________________
7) Bad Habits(Mexico, 2007, Simon Bross)
Bad habits. One of the characters is a nun - geddit???!!! Overeating, undereating, abuse and adultery in Mexico City. According to Variety, this thinking man's horror story should have a tasty future.
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8) Half Moon(Iran, 2006, Bahman Ghobadi)
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9) Those Three(2007, Iran, Naghi Nemati)
Three soldiers lose their bearings in a desolate Iranian snowscape. Chilling and visually striking, Those Three won the Asian cinema award at the Locarno film festival last year.
____________________________________________________________
10) Jar City(2007, Iceland, Baltasar Kormákur)
Grim police procedural, which did very well in the US. The Toronto International Film Festival described it as moody and troubling, which funnily enough, is exactly how I picture Iceland.
____________________________________________________________
11) Tricks
(2007, Poland, Andrzej Jakimowski)
Fresh from prizes in Venice and, of all places, Miami, Jakimowski's feature is a 'modern Charlie Chaplin movie,' about a little boy who tries to trick his estranged father into liking him. Interesting, particularly if you've ever wondered what life is like in rural Poland.
____________________________________________________________
12) The Swallows H
ave Arrived
(2007, Russia, Aszlan Galaszov)
ave Arrived(2007, Russia, Aszlan Galaszov)
Where have the swallows been? Or as the film festival website put it... 'will the swallows bring the happiness of being healed to the hero?' Who knows? If you're after a 'sweet, lyrical treatment of junkies', documentary film-maker Aszlan Galaszov is your man.
____________________________________________________________
Andy T.
Review: Szilvási Gipsy Folk Band at Corvintető
0 comments Published by hub culture on Sunday, 9 March 2008 at 22:12
"Where is my son? Get him up here - he'll show you how it's done!" And up he comes, Szilvási junior, to give us a display of the gypsy men's dance. Skipping, jumping, stamping, clapping, thigh-slapping, calf-slapping - it's so frenetic that his legs become a denim blur, but he's still full of grace and poise. But if your dad is the leader of the Szilvási Gipsy Folk Band, you'd have plenty of time to practice your dancing.
I climbed the long stairwell to Corvintető on Monday, certain I was going to enjoy the set. It was the first gig of their residency and it was pretty busy. At first people were shy to come into the centre of the dancefloor, and clung to the edges, bobbing up and down to the music. Every so often a gaggle of Roma girls, all dolled up in their bling and high heels, would come and do a fast jiggly dance, clicking their fingers with their arms high in the air.
Five songs into the band's set, and all the wallflowers were boogying unselfconsciously in the middle of the dancefloor. The music requires little description - it's dependable, well-played good-time gyspy music. Have a listen on their website, or better still, come and hear them live. They often get guest bands in too, some from as far away as Italy. What really intrigued me about this gig though was the audience.
This is real Roma party, with the band bringing folks up onto the stage to show off their gypsy dancing skills. Szilvási István, the bandleader, kept shouting things out over the mic, like, "A cigányság nem diszkriminativ!" and other messages about social unity. The dancefloor filled up with people, and became a sweaty mass of Roma, Hungarians and the odd foreigner, all having fun dancing together. I know it's often said that music can break down social boundaries, but on that rainy Monday it seemed truer than ever.
Lucy F.
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