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VANDA_project initiative
Published by VANDA_project 2013 London
International Š remains with individual artists and writers. All rights reserved collective Š VANDA_project/ABSC_ND 2013 No reproduction in part or whole without prior permission from the publisher. vandaproject@yahoo.com Editor Victoria Coster Design/Layout Victoria Coster Covers Tracey Duncan Richardson/Victoria Coster Theme Neil Burgess www.vandaproject.com
ABSC_ND
An independent publishing platform dedicated to the diverse practices of artists, writers and multi- disciplinarians ... All pushing the boundaries of theme.
VANDA_project initiative
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Get_Covered
Opposition in Four parts.
When Neil Burgess suggested the theme Opposition I initially thought ‘where do I start?’ ... It seemed to be a theme with no bounds, how to reign in something that big ... so many avenues to explore, gender, social, environmental, psychological, political ... but the most interesting thing was that it made me ask myself ‘what does Opposition mean to me on a personal level’ ... this is all I could come up with! ...
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The conflicting nature of ideas, thoughts and emotions, that appear to have no fixed abode, but roam free like vagrants, colliding with one another, creating havoc and finding expression like cheap shot opportunists wherever, whenever and with whoever ... Opposition appears to exist in confusion, when clarity has become distorted by fear and apprehension, when the only words that can be found are ‘if’s, but’s and maybe’s ... but then I thought, maybe Opposition isn’t the bad guy here, especially if it can be the driving force behind understanding that which stands behind different sides of the same fence ... if it can be seen as an energetic force with a life of its own, maybe then it can be the catalyst for breaking down the dual aspect of ‘itself’ ... Opposition is always in contrast to another, to other, in relation to something ... so bringing the four issues of the theme together in one space has in a sense created its own tension, but any conflict in this context I take as a positive, antagonistic elements exist page after page as each artist explores the theme from his or her own stand point, bringing into being their own personal perspective on the idea of Opposition. Many thank you’s to all who have contributed to enquiring into this theme.
Victoria Coster
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ABSC ND Part I
Pg 8
Part II
Pg 52
Part III
Pg 90
Part IV
pg 134
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“Great spirits have always encountered opposition from mediocre minds. The mediocre mind is incapable of understanding the man who refuses to bow blindly to conventional prejudices and chooses instead to express his opinions courageously and honestly.� Albert Einstein
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Opposition
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part
One
Neil Burgess Sasha Alexander Violetta Liszka Sasha Stadnik Row Walker Aaron Doig Tracey Duncan Richardson Victoria Coster Anonymous
VANDA_project initiative
Neil Burgess Paradoxes
Our childhood is the best time to learn and gain the knowledge that we need To help us to go out into the world, choose a job and hopefully, succeed. But at school we are taught things that we would never ever choose Things that we can never remember because we never, ever use. Sitting exams isolated us as we crammed so much into our heads Wouldn’t it be better for our children to learn life skills, interactively, instead? Why isn’t our children’s education being restructured and better planned For teaching in more effective ways to help them all to understand? When people make money is that a good thing, a million or maybe a few Why do people want more than that? When they have it what will they do? Why are some people so greedy that they are never satisfied? They just keep on making and making but they can’t take it when they die. What do they do with their hoards and why do they always want more? It surely keeps accruing interest, what do they need it all for? Why don’t they want to share or at least give a helping hand? What makes them all so greedy? I don’t get it, I really don’t understand.
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Fashion is taken so seriously but it really makes me smile Clothes become obsolete so quickly and may only be worn for a while. A beautiful woman can be vilified if she dares to wear the wrong dress And woe betide her if she wears it twice, you know it will be all over the press. It’s just another scam to make money and aimed so much at the young At those who feel they need to fit in, to find a group in which to belong. Designers designing distractions, even deigning to do it by hand Bought by the rich and the trendy who think that they understand.
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When a political party gets into power, why don’t they keep to their promise. They make such claims that they don’t fulfil. Why can’t they just be honest? They pass laws with which we don’t agree and are never taken to task Disregarding the pleas of the masses and evading the questions we ask. Why don’t we change this arrangement, and make them accountable by law? If we could vote on all major decisions we could prevent being led into war. Can you tell me why we let this happen? And why we don’t make a stand? Aren’t they supposed to represent you and me? I just don’t understand.
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We are born into the faith of our nation and raised to believe it true That ours is the one true faith and we ignore the other nations’ points of view. If all religions lead to the one God, then the route should be irrelevant because Surely it’s just like reading a Divine map and all roads lead back to the Source. Some use their faith as a doctrine, a model on how to live ethically Others use it as way to keep women from ever gaining equality. Some use their faith as a weapon, a reason to attack another land But God’s love is unilateral, what don’t they understand?
Why are there so many contradictions and why do we just let them be? Why do we put up with all of the wars, mayhem and atrocities? How come the minority with, get to lead the majority without? How many of us would it take to rise and finally turn the tables about? Why hasn’t anyone challenged the system that’s loaded to favour the rich? To make the world more equal and finally turn on a switch That would make everyone more enlightened and ready to make a stand To create a peaceful world, where we all will understand.
Neil Burgess_Paradox’s
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Sasha Alexander “Ida Cubana”
‘Ida Cubana’ presents documentary photography about Cuban life and how communism is still alive here on the largest Caribbean island. Sasha Alexander through his graphic photography tells the story of local people he met during a recent research trip to the fascinating country that is Cuba. The main objective was to understand exactly how people can live on as little as £20 per month; to see and capture the communist propaganda, and to experience something that is very distant untouchable and unchangeable. This is Sasha’s journey through the nation of Cuba, which helped him appreciate the basic luxuries that we all take for granted in our lives, such as shelter and food, as well as a simple benefits of freedom of speech.
Antonio is a “tour guide”, like majority of Cubans he lives from tourism. At the age of 54 his life isn't great, he’s trying to live on 1 peso (£1) per day. This is his journey through the Matanzas province, the sugar cane capital located an hour east from Havana.
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Pasión le existencia- passion for existence. Everyone is trying to earn and survive, the black market seems the only way to earn money. Doctors, lorry drivers and cleaners all earn the same wage. Antonio wonders streets all day trying to find work and tourist he can “feed on”.
Sasha Alexander_Ida Cubana
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To see more of Sasha’s work: : www.sasha-alexander.com
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Nothing given nothing exchanged apart from historic memories that are silently locked away here in this frame.
ABSC_ND_Opposition One
Violetta Liszka
Luggage 2012 From the series ‘portraits of other artists’
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Capturing the dramatic, striking and theatrical. Artist/photographer Violette Liszka is currently developing a portrait series focusing on artists working within visual arts, music, design, dance and theatre.
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Sasha Stadnik
“My work is kitch, conceptual and overwhelmingly Russian. I spent most of my childhood life in the USSR and all of my adult life in Western countries. My art practice is a hybrid of these two worlds. It is autobiographical as well as sociological.�
Tea Time - Etching
Mother Russia - Etching
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“As I am now living in London I am trying to adapt, questioning the culture in which I live and it’s ensuing pressures. Exploring the notion of ideology and memory, how they become influenced by the propaganda and politics of a particular era”
New Russia - Screen print
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VANDA_project initiative
Row Walker : Sir Vive Lives : Part IV Red Square Rations
We’ve found an abandoned wooden cabin in the forest, it has no food but it’s shelter for the night. I can’t describe the amount of happiness I feel just for having a basic amenity that I once took for granted. This mouldy wood cabin might as well be a five star hotel, that’s how happy I am. I think the lack of sleep and food is messing with my emotions either way I’m going to bask in this feeling, hold onto it just as much as I’m holding onto life. Tom thinks we should stay here and set up camp but Vive says we need to keep moving. We’re all exhausted, it would be nice to rest for a day but I know we can’t. Tom knows it as well but at some point we’re going to have to rest otherwise we’ll all go crazy. The red square city rations believe it or not taste nicer every day, it’s strange what hunger does to your taste buds. Vive and my Dad say the rations look and taste like cat food, I’ve only ever seen a cat once, only the rich can afford a licence to keep one.
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Dad says when he was young nearly everyone had a cat or a dog, now you would be lucky to ever see one in the city because the poorest of society would steal it and eat it like in the first food crisis. We only have seven tins of rations left and the three rabbits we managed to catch before we crossed the river. Tonight we feast on rabbit again, there's much more meat to share around this time. Our bellies will be full and the journey tomorrow will be a little more bearable. I think I am coping with the situation better now, well at least better than Mary, Tom's the only one holding her together. Vive and my Dad are dealing with it better than everyone, I wish I could be like them .
Aaron Doig Methods of appropriation 2013
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Aaron Doig _Opposition One
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ABSC_ND_Opposition one
Tracey Duncan Richardson
'Holding on...letting go,
entropy of patterns'
This work is about holding onto painful tortuous feelings and thoughts. Then letting them go over time so that they begin to dissolve into nothing but a stain, a footprint of a faded situation. After the patterns succumb to entropy, light begins to emerge where once there dwelt dark crevasses.
I
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Holding on ... Entropy of patterns I
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Letting go ... Entropy of patterns I
Victoria Coster
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“The history of men’s opposition to women’s emancipation is more interesting perhaps than the story of that emancipation itself” Virginia Woolf
1 : Untitled I 2013 2 : Untitled II 2013 3 : Untitled III 2013
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I will not expose the crassness of our petty Opposition ...
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Or is it that I have already done so?
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Anonymous
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CULTURE DIVA
“It’s a neo-renaissance, there’s no time to be sleeping”
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Opposition
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part
Sasha Stadnik Tracey Duncan Richardson Row Walker Violetta Liszka Aaron Doig Sasha Alexander Victoria Coster Anonymous
Two
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Sasha Stadnik Child Brides
In my recent themes I have been exploring issues faced by girls and women in different parts of the world. At present I am researching issues of child marriages. While girls in the Western world are playing ‘Family’, girls as young as 9 in other parts of the world live it out as their reality.
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Happy Agreement
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The biggest concern is that such young girls get married off to men 20-30 years their senior. They get pulled out of school, removed from there families. And once married, they are more likely to be a victim of domestic violence and suffer health complications associated with early sexual activity and childbearing. My goal is to provoke viewers into asking questions, to illicit genuine interest about the subject matter and form opinions.
Sasha Stadnik_Child Brides
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Tracey Duncan Richardson Giving ambiguity to form
ABSC_ND_Opposition two
'Holding on...letting go,
entropy of patterns' II
Holding On. Entropy of Patterns II
Letting go. Entropy of patterns II.
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Row Walker : The Dogs
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t’ll be a week tomorrow since we escaped the city, the walls were nearly complete. The building of the walls helped a lot of people financially, so their attention was diverted from the fact that it would imprison them. We were told the wall was to protect us from the Dogs who were a result of the first food crisis, which happened before I was born. The poorest of society had no credits to buy food, some of them did anything and everything to survive. They ate leftover food out of the bins, they ate insects, any animal they could find, even people’s pets and then they started to feast on the dead.
Food got so scarce that there were no scraps of left in the bins, that’s when the Dogs started killing people to survive. The weirdest thing is they didn’t eat each other, instead they packed together, that’s why they became known as Dogs, but they used to be human just like us. Now their behaviour is more animal like, their intelligence has diminished, they show no compassion or empathy, they’ve become savage, fighting solely for their survival. They were compared to mindless zombies by the city officials and the peace officers fought them out of the walls.
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Sir Vive Lives : Part V We were told they would starve outside and that would end the problem, but it seems there is more food out here than in there. To buy a rabbit in the city would cost three months credits and we’ve caught four of them. The majority of the people in the city are like us and could only afford to buy colour shape rations. I hope we never encounter the Dogs face to face, every child is haunted by horror stories of the them, it’s one of the first things they teach. It’s part of their obedience strategy, to engulf every child in fear so that they accept the cities rules without question, that’s what Dad says and Vive agrees
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Violetta Liszka
Bella Fable as a Man.
2012
Taking photos of Bella Fable I played an ancillary role.
My work was a photographic record documenting the project of an amazing actress and writer.
Her project is her own story about characters from the period of Victorian London, such as a lecherous reveller, a famous London coquette and a beautiful, intelligent lady fighting with the customs of her own times.
Bella Fable as a London Coquette I.
2012
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Bella Fable as a London Coquette II.
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Bella Fable as a Lady.
2012
Aaron Doig : methods of appropriation
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Sasha Alexander Provincia de la Habana
Entrada
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Everyone gets paid a minimum and average monthly salary is between ÂŁ10ÂŁ20. Government provide food support and despite minimum wage all the public services are free. One of the ways to get around; hitch-hiking is very common.
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Libreta de Abastecimiento. Food distribution outlet, always with queues.
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ABSC_ND_Sasha Alexander
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Trabajo Todo Dia -work all day Communismo, communist graffiti propaganda is seen everywhere around the city.
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Victoria Coster
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CONTRAST COUNTERFEIT COPYCAT CONFLICT THIS IS NOT AN ADVERTISEMENT
JESUS_This is not an advertisement.
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OBAMA_This is not an advertisement
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REEBOK_This is not an advertisement
ABSC_ND_Opposition_Victoria Coster 2013
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KONICA - This is not an advertisement
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Anonymous
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CULTURE DIVA
“Consuming the cliché , is femininity really our power?”
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Opposition
part
Sasha Alexander The Eloquence Jose Lourenco Row Walker Tracey Duncan Richardson Sasha Stadnik Robert Fitch-Pomeroy Victoria Coster Anonymous
Three
Sasha Alexander
Malecon Sasha Alexander presents the third chapter from his documentary series Ida Cubana. Through his graphic photography he tells the story of the local people he met during a recent research trip, the main objective was to see how people could live on as little as ÂŁ20 per month, to see and capture the communist propaganda and to experience something that is very distant untouchable and unchangeable.
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Sasha Alexander_Ida Cubana_Malecon
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This is the beautiful sea front where all the locals hangout in the evening, especially younger generation. This is where Sasha Alexander got introduced to Barrio and Leanardo crew.
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Crew
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This is Barrio and Leanardo, 29 and 25. Neither have many possessions in their lives as money is no object for them. The most precious thing in their life is friendship as they look after each other.
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Mehor Amigos, best friends
To see more of Sasha’s work: : www.sasha-alexander.com
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Chao pecao
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SOME FAR REACHING CONCEPTS ON OPPOSITION An essay by THE ELOQUENCE (prelude to a poem)
In William Blake’s ‘The Marriage Of Heaven and Hell’, Good and Evil are given paradoxical meanings, passively accepting is regarded as evil and active opposition being regarded as good. I had a long conversation with a friend of mine, we talked on the issue of pride and how stubborn we humans can be, at the end of the conversation we came to slightly different conclusions, we didn’t agree on certain points ... moved on swiftly ... we humans are built for discourse and debate. Me and my friend also discussed issues on expression styles, I explained to him the idea that one person’s form of assertiveness can be translated or interpreted as aggression to another. For example someone can be passively aggressive, talking in a polite manner but then act with aggression, or someone could be aggressively passive talking, yet in an intrusive manner acting quite passively; being assertive is the mediator between the two extremes; we are both, and they share similar traits to one another. William Blake more than a Romantic poet played the role of Devil’s Advocate for Christianity in his time and as an unorthodox Christian was seen as a lunatic and heretic by many of his contemporaries, yet in today’s world he is considered a genius, a misunderstood hero by the secular and theological worlds alike. Blake pitied mankind for its ignorance towards these truths of good and evil.
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From the other end of the spectrum, we have the anti-hero who successfully beat their opposition and created Communism, the man known as Joseph Stalin, a complete megalomaniac; the intelligence and precision he used to gain power over his opposition cannot be overstated or forgotten. He was said by many of his peers to have been a charming and most persuasive individual. When you get to the crux of it, opposing forces or having an opponent is all to do with power. Even our relationships with one another have something to do with power. For example imagine being brought up by aggressive parents, you can grow up believing that to empower yourself you have to have complete power and control over others. The world can be a strange hellish place for the utopian idealist but to the dystopian realist it can be a heaven or is it also vice-versa? ; is it encoded in our genes that we compete? The Science Fiction World seems to think so, its history presents us with a succession of stories that validate or reverberate this concept or idea; Aldous Huxley’s novel ‘Brave New World’ talked on babies being born under a certain class or classification. H.G Well’s Time Machine talked of two types of human species one inferior to the other. Aldous Huxley went on further to explain the predominance of one type of person over another in his non-fiction book called ‘The Perennial Philosophy’.
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CONT...
Competition is rife in society today, we on the one hand can be a fickle people, and a very cynical one, on the other, we are also a craving on legs, very discriminating when it comes to seeing such situations in a certain light. We can’t help it or ourselves for that matter and it's not necessarily a bad thing either. Without variety or diversity in our lives where or how would life be looked at? It's our job to express, dictate, trace the origins of what it means to be or make a difference and it's in the difference that we can play with tension (dynamically), without that need to proclaim our commonalities, it could mean, we refuse to relate to something which seems very distant and unusual in ourselves. We are at the heart of it in conflict with ourselves especially in a world where it demands we be one sided, decisive, and the Alpha Male etcetera, etcetera. Realistically speaking this is not always possible but we can be highly skilled esthetes at contradiction as there is a beauty in humans, a paradox and I believe there are two types of contradictions to this paradox one positive and one negative, for example a negative contradiction could be to do with a person saying their philanthropic and then they ‘contradict’ themselves by acting misanthropic, a positive contradiction is we act cold on the surface yet deep inside every soul there yearns a need for warmth, we humans are famous for this, this is where our true nature is to be valued.
ABSC_ND_Opposition Three
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If we looked to our distant relatives in the U.S it is a baby to England in terms of how old it is commercially (Native Americans aside). The U.S has excelled in its industries. Competing can prove diabolical, war is not necessary in my mind especially if it means going against one another, such blood sports entail various forms of ruthlessness which doesn’t bring out the best in us. We are all one and yet we are individuals at the same time, and to make a comparative sport out of this would do us an injustice in the realm of what it means to value the essence and qualities of what it truly means to be an autonomous individual. Having different views is a gift to be celebrated, it's what builds friendships and helps us to grow; It makes us the interesting characters in a novel and the writers to our own life stories. If we can strike a balance between holding our own views whilst respecting and appreciating others, the world could be a better place but when we let pride and an out of control ego affect our decision making, we’ll only take our opinions for ourselves and when the ‘I’ refuses to be a separate entity, we will not acknowledge we are both of a part and whole and it can only prove us more human, because it forces us to recognise that what we take from others is what we take from ourselves.
An essay by THE ELOQUENCE
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Jose Lourenco : talking about his 3 Dimensional Portrait Woman in The Room Painting in itself is already an illusion, as with a photograph, reality has become distorted. I use a variety of materials on the surface of the canvas in an attempt to push the illusion as far as I possibly can.
The materials often dictate
how far this will be...Through a process of construction and deconstruction the painting goes through many stages..., often over a long period of time, I can guide the materials but ultimately there is no final control over the outcome.
The further
the portrait is pushed, the greater the conflict between the elements of painting and sculpture. ABSC_ND
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Point of perspective alters the whole painting, from one angle the portrait looks right but shift in any direction and everything becomes distorted, becoming something different entirely, in a sense something is 'wrong', I compare this idea to Picasso's Cubist portraits.
ABSC_ND_Jose Lourenco
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“Woman in the room" is essentially a metaphor for modern living - that sense of internal isolation that can often be felt, not isolation from society but a removal from our sense of self. Even when we surround ourselves with many people and fill our lives with un-necessary things, there is often a prevailing sense of dissatisfaction, a feeling of not accomplishing, for me it's about asking "what's necessary ?"
To respond to Jose Lourenco’s theme “What’s Necessary” e-mail vandaproject@yahoo.com
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Row Walker Continues into Opposition three with a story that could span many themes. He tells the story of a fifteen year old girl who is one of five to escape the dictatorship of an oppressive city. Amongst the five are her father and a character she knows only as Sir Vive, in her journal she records the events that transpire as they journey onward to what she hopes will be a more liberated future. The excerpts included in ABSC_ND provide the foundations for the complete story titled - Sir Vive Lives.
...cont Sir Vive Lives
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Cruel Intentions
D
ad says it's been thirty years since the visitors arrived, I've been alive for half of that time. He says they arrived just after the final war, which Dad and Vive call world war three. He says that education was very different when he was a child. They used to teach a class called geography, where they showed maps of the world and a class called history, where they told you about things that happened before the final war and food crisis's. The only thing I learnt at school was how to read and write, the rest is what they called practical skills. Which were just lessons in complete obedience, “don't ask questions,” your employer knows what's best for you, “do exactly as they say”. Those aren't the words they used but they might as well have been, their fancy word-play didn't fool me. Then there were the tests to assess your value to society and assign your future job. I was assigned to be a midwife, why the hell would I want to be a midwife. I don't want to be the one that has to kill babies, that’s what happens if they don't fit the enforced criteria. I couldn't break a babies neck because it’s born having a minor defect, I just know it's wrong, let alone regulate the gender ratio. Dads says when he was young this type of thing didn't happen, all babies were allowed to live and were given their chance in life. Back then apparently no one would stand for a lot of the stuff that goes on in the city now. I wonder what happened to people, what made them accept this cruel and heartless behaviour as a normal state of living. Whatever it was, it must have been horrific to demoralise a whole world of people like that. What could make them give up their values and embrace the opposite of the things they used to cherish.
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Tracey Duncan Richardson Giving ambiguity to form
ABSC_ND
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'Holding on...letting go,
entropy of patterns' III
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Holding On ... l e t t i n g
g o
ENTROPY of patterns III
VANDA_project initiative
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ABSC_ND_Tracey Duncan Richardson
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holding on
LETTING GO
Entropy of PATTERNS III
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Sasha Stadnik Limited Edition
In my work I am exploring notions of impermanence, a j o u r n e y t h ro u g h l i f e , i n t e r re l at i o n s h i p s a n d c o n t e m p o ra r y c u l t u re . M y “ L i m i t e d E d i t i o n � p ro j e c t s e e k s t o i l l u s t rat e t h i s i n a n e x c i t i n g w a y u s i n g 21 0 m o n o p r i n t s . T h i s m a k e s a l i g h t - h e a r t e d c o m m e n t o n t h e g ro w i n g t re n d of vaginoplasty. I c o m b i n e d d e s i g n e r p at t e r n s a n d a d v e r t i s i n g s l o g a n s f ro m t h e re t a i l i n d u s t r y w i t h i m a ge s o f v a g i n a s t o s h o w h o w o u r b o d i e s a re increasingly becoming commercialized.
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Sasha Stadnink_from the Limited Edition series
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CONT...from lines four
Robert Fitch - Pomeroy conversations with Vlad
The Internal and The External Later, around midday, during the next smoking break, I puffed out my cheeks and blew out more tobacco smoke, attempting to relieve the tension of the morning – still too much to be done and too few people to do it. The fog has thinned; the red triangles of the morning had reformed back into trees once again. I paced slowly observing the white painted stippled finish on the concrete clad wall of the building, it’s plastic window sills and anti-symetrical double glazing, I turned slightly around on hearing the familiar voice behind me saying “Young man !” I looked from side to side, a full hundred and eighty degree sweep of the horizon, then looked skyward, searching for this elusive voice. As I turned, I queried “Young man ?” and looked at this smiling Romanian face again. “Remember you are only three months younger than I am – this makes you a young man” Vlad said, as a point of undisputable fact, then continued “This morning, I wanted to tell you more…..” “Prey continue” I said. He did, “This woman, the Romanian one, who contacted me” he reminded me, “I met her at my brother’s new house party, not what I told you before.” I asked “up or down ?” “Two down” he said “my youngest brother.” He paused briefly,
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“One last thing she told me, but you’ll never guess what it is ?” obviously anxious to tell me something he considered important. In my best sarcastic tone I answered “Well, if I’ll never guess, and to save hours of our valuable time, why don’t you just put me out of my obvious misery and tell me ?” Vlad walked closer to me, checking over his right shoulder that we were not being overheard, and then leaned his head close to mine; almost under his breath his says “This woman, she tells me that she thinks she’s a lesbian”. I queried the validity of the claim, “Did she wake up one morning and make this discovery ?” and I continued “How do you discover something like that ? Did she break out into a rash or was there some other sign ? - What are the signs ?” “No, no, listen” Vlad said, “She works part time in a shop. Just the two women, a hairdressers or something like this” and continued his explanation “and she says the woman she works for, her boss, has been showing an interest in her” “Showing an interest ?” I asked “Going out to lunch together, going out in the evenings, staying late at the shop, just chatting, long after it’s closed” – all obvious signs of pending lesbianism, I thought. “So what harm are they doing?” I asked him. “She’s a married woman !!” said Vlad with a tone of disgust in his voice. Obviously, therefore, married women cannot be lesbians, he had concluded.
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“Well, call me old fashioned, but I’m happily heterosexual myself, so I’m not really qualified in her area”. Vlad emphasised again “But she’s married.” ‘Ah’, I think, ‘religious intolerance - divisive, each set against the others, each with its own set of rules and regulations. For example, Vlad may claim he was born ‘a Christian’ , but do we possess a religious strand of DNA ? He may have been born into a ‘Christian’ household, but all that implies is a childhood under certain guidance. I was raised as one myself, but I don’t believe it now. For me ‘religion’ is a personal journey, we gain or otherwise, knowledge through our own personal experience. We decide for ourselves or just twist in the wind’. Vlad stirs me from my thoughts “She could be anything, a prostitute, she can sleep in the streets, drunk, anything…. but a lesbian ?”. For him this is obviously the lowest form of life there can be. Vlad and I have had our ‘religious’ discussions before. We have exchanged views , opinions and experiences. As my friend, I don’t wish to offend him, but I’ll question what he says and thinks, as he is free to questions me. As my friend, he cannot offend me, because I don’t believe that would be his intention, just as I occasionally withhold something that may offend him. I asked him “Can you imagine what that must be like ? Being married to a man and wanting to be with a woman ?”. His repost - “How can you be a woman, married to a man and then suddenly want to be with a woman ?”, but we were just simplifying her situation. ABSC_ND
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I posed Vlad the question “We’re both single men, by accident or design, or in my case stupidity - try to imagine going through all that stuff to get there and then finding out you might have been wrong all the time.” My thoughts poured out further as I continued, “I don’t suppose she woke up one day and made a sudden discovery. It must have been a real torment for her, how long had she been battling with the idea ?” I did not remember an eleventh commandment ‘thou shall discover nor claim to be a lesbian’. With all our similarities, especially our shared sense of humour, this appeared to be a cultural difference between Vlad and myself. Some say cannot choose our sexuality, just as we cannot choose our colour. If this is true, as individuals, who can judge whom ? I pondered on the human concoction of our physical, mental and spiritual being, our heads can rule are hearts and vice versa; the rational and emotional mistakes we’ve all made and the battle to balance all these different parts to find our own personal happiness. I was grateful not to be in her position. I asked Vlad “Suppose she is in love ?” I was told “She should be in love with her husband”, so I asked one of my favourite questions , “How do you know when you’re in love ?.....................................
Robert Fitch-Pomeroy _Opposition four
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Victoria Coster
Anybody who has lived or travelled in South Asia and India is well aware of the effects of pollution on both the geological environment and physical body. Gradually the immune system falters, a number of respiratory problems are encountered ... and for those passing through, the paks are eventually loaded up ready for flight back to a seemingly less polluted homeland ... where the body adjusts again, heals, repairs and the visual signs of pollution appear less evident ... but is this really so? ... Are we not just better at disguising the problem by using a set of comparative scales, making the issue of pollution in the west, on the surface at least, far less important!
The_Global Dis_ease The WHO estimates that outdoor air pollution causes 620,000 premature deaths per year in India, the fifth leading cause of death in the country due to growing particle emissions from transport and power-plants.
At least 7 MILLION people die each year from air pollution, this makes it a global problem.
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School children take to the streets in demonstration to raise awareness of pollution issues in Geyzing north east India.
Pollution_A global disease
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AIR POLLUTION KILLS MORE PEOPLE AROUND THE WORLD EVERY YEAR THAN ARE KILLED BY AIDS OR MALARIA C O M B I N E D !
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In the UK...The Department of Health recently released information showing that 5% of deaths of people over 30 in South East England were attributable to airborne particles in 2011. According to Green party MEP Keith Taylor this equates to at least 4051 deaths from air pollution in 2011, indicating that more than 1 in 20 deaths are caused by breathing polluted air.
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On the doorstep! Earlier this month Simon Birkett, Clean Air London wrote “Death rate worsened in 15 of 33 boroughs in London and 18 of 119 other local areas in England. The City of London remains the worst area with 8.94% of total deaths attributable to PM2.5 followed by the City of Westminster�
VANDA_project initiative
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Anonymous
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CULTURE DIVA
STEP ONE TO RECOVERY “I am a selfaholic”
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Opposition
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part
Sasha Stadnik The Eloquence Sasha Alexander Robert Fitch-Pomeroy Tracey Duncan Richardson Row Walker Victoria Coster
Four
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Sasha Stadnik ‘Gift is a beauty’
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Making a light-hearted comment on the growing trend of Vaginoplasty Sasha combines easily recognised designer logo’s with unmistakable body parts, making a satirical comment on how our bodies are becoming increasingly commercialized.
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To see more of Sasha’s work or to contact her in person : www.sstadnik.com facebook.com/sashastadnik.art
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THE ELOQUENCE THE HOT AND COLD VS MIXED FEELINGS
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One leaves you alone hot, feeling for the two isolate The other remains twain with you as bludgeoned; Being the innate complexities of their well stun grace, Without both world’s youth, there’d be no division. In the class they own; irony’s their one viral rage, Without their life’s colour what’s growth or its germ? The man a victim; atmosphere conditions this way: Stirred as a fylfot’s breadth into splat opinions. As individual properties, we’re one side’s place; Knowing one’s own permeates conflict for instance; When as instinct groups we’re two of the same; Only to ourselves when such opposing is coincidence. There’s no satisfactory result in this froze vein fixed Or no-one air or way, from looking at its sultry bent; That views were always going to be an unmatched mix As the constitution it refuses us having blowed blends.
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Sasha Alexander
La Habana Vieja
The final chapter in Sasha Alexander’s Ida Cubana series. A series documenting the people, life and culture of Cuba.
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To see more of Sasha’s work visit www.sasha-alexander.com
One of many districts that can be seen in Havana, very old buildings where Cubans comfortably live.
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Fransico
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Francisco is a garbage man who cleans the streets of old Havana for ÂŁ20per month. He is very happy man, he likes to spend his day on the streets and meet new people, especially tourists.
Communist propaganda
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Alejandro
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Alejandro wonders the strip of Malecon in the hope to finding new opportunities that tourists can bring him.
VANDA_project initiative
Cubans do wish to break away from communist circle but after all they have all they need in the country.
Sasha Alexander
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Robert Fitch - Pomeroy Different Demons. “… we only want you to be happy …” Parents circa 1978 / 1979
The Festive Season, Boxing Day, snow still lingering on the ground from a rare fall the day before, the snowman in the back garden melting, looking like it had had a major stroke. I was a gangly youth then, with more hair, more of my own teeth and a great deal less stomach. I was living with my parents and all the family were gathered in the family home. I’d got up as usual, around 11.30, wrapped myself in my dressing gown, then yawned most of the way downstairs to the hot steam filled kitchen. My mum was bent over the cooker, preparing something or other, the rest of family members were relaxing in the warmth of the sitting room, “What time do you call this ?” she said, turning after I entered. “I call it too bloody early to be awake and down here” I replied, one of the jousts between my early rising parents and myself, which happen every weekend - Mum had modified the rules to include Xmas too, a belated Xmas gift. I made myself a cup of coffee in silence and then meandered into the sitting room to join the others. My sister was sitting with her fiancée, my brother was way too young to be thinking about girlfriends. “Good Afternoon, glad you could join us” Dad said looking up from the Radio Times, to which I replied “You’re just lucky I’m here so early”. That ritual over, I went and sat down in an available armchair with a box of chocolates close to hand, then looked at everyone either constructing, wearing or eating some of the gifts they received the day before. I heard mum call me, barely audible over the loud volume of the TV, “come here, there is something I wanna ask you”. I was expecting a question of what I wanted to eat for dinner later in the day – unless it included cherries I’d eat almost anything. ABSC_ND
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I grabbed a handful of chocolates and walked back to the kitchen and she simply asked me “Do you want to invite Shahla over for dinner later ? She’ll probably be on her own today and it’s not right at Christmas, is it ?”. I thought Shahla was persona non grata to my parents, having been slightly implicated in my broken engagement the year before, so I was astounded at what she said. I accepted her generous offer and hoped there may be a slight thawing in her attitude. Suddenly I was wide awake, so I rang Shala, left a message that I would collect her, showered, shaved, dressed and rushed out to get her.
The first time I’d seen Shahla, she’d just appeared from around a corner, through a doorway – and instantly mesmerized me. The most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Petite but perfectly formed, her clear pale caramel completion complimented her deep alluring dark eyes, which instantly caught my attention. Dressed immaculately in a black pleated skirt, hanging half way down her calf's, with a white blouse, she wore a necklace but no visible earrings under her beautiful lustrous black hair, which rested just above her shoulders. I assumed she was from overseas, she appeared to hold all the mysteries of The East within her, was she as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside - dare I peek inside Pandora’s Box ? The butterflies in my stomach were flapping their wings as though it were an Olympic final, I tried to hide it but I was literally shaking, though slightly with excitement. Purposely brushing against her tiny manicured hand, I felt any self confidence and slight bravado evaporate, being consumed by my innate shyness. My mind went completely blank. My tongue felt like it was covered with dry sandpaper. Panicking, I thought ‘what could I say to her’ ? ... I had to say something, so we could meet again….
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She said “Hi, how are you ?” in an accent I did not recognise. Something must have stumbled out of my mouth, but I don’t remember what and I cannot recall if I saw her later the same day, but I had great difficulty sleeping that night, unable to get her image from my head, not that I wanted to. It was easier to get out of bed the next morning and every morning, because every day had the potential of seeing her again, of getting to know her a little better, seeing her wonderful smile. She did come back and I learned more about her as we spoke more often. She was born in Rasht, on the Caspian Sea, in Iran (E-raan as she pronounced it) and was studying full time at the college where I worked. Her journey there had taken her via Brighton and Eltham. Her voice sometimes had the back-ofthe-throatyness of a French speaker. She was always perfumed, Chanel No. 5, it was perfectly suited to her – if she was not with me, I could always smell her in my nostrils ... if I tried. Shahla was Muslim, and I was ignorant of Islam, she was a completely unknown quantity to me. Back then it was not a case of a simple internet search for information, this had to be gained from her or elsewhere and I slowly developed an idea of her Muslim rules and regulations. My colleagues and family knew I was engaged and I later discovered she was too. My initial intention was just to get to know this beautiful mysterious girl. We had many clandestine meetings and our relationship grew…. We arrived home, Shahla armed with a box of chocolates for each of us and we no doubt had dinner. She seemed to get on with everyone, especially my Nan, and my Dad, who was his usual friendly, gracious, accommodating charming, polite self. Shahla and I spent most of the evening entwined, feeding one another chocolates, watching the television. I forced myself to take her back much later in the evening. We sat in the car and chatted for an hour and I finally watched her disappear into the building. I was so distressed that we could not finish the evening together…. would we ever end up in the same bed together ?
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The following evening the family were sitting around again relaxing, everyone having probably overeaten. During one general conversation Shahla’s name came up. I don’t remember any negative comments, so I threw out my usual ‘supposing’ discussion. I used this expression to try to gain opinions or shock, depending on my mood. “Suppose I want to marry Shahla ?” was one of the ideas I threw out for discussion. The usual “do you love her /does she love you ?” comments were returned. “What about the culture differences ? What about her religion ? What would her parents say ? Where would you live ? “. The most cutting was from my Mother, who said, quite bluntly “She’s only here for a passport”. Where had “…as long as you’re happy…” disappeared to ?...... Surely my happiness is on my own terms ? Although family approval makes lives easier, or is even earned over time, it’s not essential, just desirable ... to most people ... and I had another reason not to value it as highly as some others might … The best part of thirty three years flew past, almost without noticing until one day I was in discussion with my now widowed Mother, going through some old papers of hers. We worked out that who she thought was her father, probably wasn’t !! She thought he was a dark skinned ex-sailor, originally from South America, who had married her own Mother, settled in this country and then ran his own business. My Mum, potentially being his off spring, and because of his different skin tone, had been scared all her life that her children and grandchildren may be ‘different’. As a child she'd suffered much racial abuse at school due to her ‘Dad’s’ colour…..
Robert Fitch-Pomeroy_Different Deamons
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Tracey Duncan Richardson In response to the theme Opposition, presenting the last two scanographic images from a series.
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'Holding on...letting go,
entropy of patterns' IV
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HOLDING ON ... letting go
Entropy of patterns IV
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holding on ... LETTING GO
Entropy of patterns IV
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Row Walker : Sir Vive Lives
Restricted Access
Vive
s a y s w e n e e d t o ge t t h e c re d i t c h i p s o u t o f o u r hands, because they can use them to t ra c k u s . M a r y , To m a n d m e h a d t h e m i m p l a n t e d at b i r t h . V i v e a n d m y d a d w e re b o r n i n t h e t i m e o f c re d i t c a rd s , t h e y c h o s e n o t t o ge t a n implant, u n fo r t u n at e l y c h o o s i n g n o t t o h a v e o n e i s n o l o n ge r a n o p t i o n . T h e y s a y b e fo re c re d i t s t h e re w a s s o m e t h i n g called money, metal coins with a head and tails on and paper notes with faces on, it's all an alien idea t o m e . . . A n d h e s a i d t h at b e fo re t h at p e o p l e u s e d t o b a r t e r fo r g o o d s , they would swap a couple of c h i c k e n s fo r a g a l l o n o f m i l k o r s o m e t h i n g e l s e , I d o n ' t k n o w w h at a g a l l o n i s .
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Dad told me they learnt about the past from history books, imagine that, books full of history, I so wish I could see one. The only books we were shown were the work placement files, I don't know why they'd show us considering we never got to choose what we did in the city. It's almost like they were teasing us, giving us hope for the purpose of taking it away, Dad says it's like hammering the round peg into the square hole.
He says they used to teach science to everyone, not just the most obedient or those born into rich families, but everyone and t h at w h e n t h e y w e re c h i l d re n t h e re w e re p l a n e s w h i c h f l e w i n t h e s k y a n d ro c k e t s t h at went to the moon, sounds a bit far-fetched to me ... though I'd like to think it's true. I wish I could go back i n t i m e a n d s e e fo r m y s e l f,
Vive said you could surf this thing they called the internet, full of information, I would learn and learn and never stop learning. It's hard to imagine a world where everyone had a computer and where everyone could communicate through the magical cyberspace ... Now there's only one computer in the city ...
and it controls everything ...
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Victoria Coster Presenting two from a series of mixed media drawings, subjective reflections exploring Psychological states of being.
palpitaneous scratches of nerve ending bulbs, roaming as armoured ants through magnetic turf ... asking me questions that cannot be answered, your insistence driving inwards further still that soft centimetre of the newborns head ... so long ago, barely can it be remembered, what it is like, was like, will it be that way again, before the time ends ... to gasp for one more breath satisfied and naked.
Anxiety 2013 Mixed media on paper
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I remember the first time you crawled in through my toes,
sweating chills of dry throat swallows, where mind numbs and thoughts vacate ... shaking pressure vibrates the speechless babble of nothingness ... I cannot cast off your timeless roots, a crude block carved from flesh, bones ... the ugly is the beautiful, but eyes turn outwards unable to see ... just one word, one line, one note without it ... please.
Stage Fright 2013 Mixed media on paper
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