BEast magazine by Martin Svoboda

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notes from the lair of the beast

beasties Kristina Wilson Kristiina Wilson is an NYC based fashion photographer. You can also see her work in magazines such as Let Them Eat Cake, Atypica, Blink, H, Deleted Scenes, Highlights and Stimuli. Recently she has shot campaigns for Lacrasia, Marimekko, Monique Pean and Peter Soronen. Page 92.

Eric Hason Brooklyn native Eric Hason loves taking pictures, looking at pictures and talking about pictures. When not involved with his photography you can find him enjoying friends and family, relaxing at the beach, or tending his brand new compost pile. Eric cannot sing or play piano to save his life, but that does not stop him from trying. He shot Liquid Sky, inspired by Russian émigré Slava Tsukerman’s eponymous cult film, for this ‘East Sides’ issue. Page 82.

Slumming it in New York’s East Village after university, I assumed — like many in the emerging east sides of global cities do — that its geographic marker was only a historical accident. The reasons for the West Village being wealthier and more bourgeois than the East never crossed our minds. East was where it was exciting, creative & cheap, and we were proud to claim it as our own. Publishing B EAST Magazine for over ten issues, we’ve come to realise though that it’s not just New York’s art scene that is skewed towards the rising sun. East Berlin, East Prague, East Warsaw — and even East London — have similar vibes, with edgy artists and hipsters gravitating towards the grittier, low-rent working-class suburbs of major cities.

Ian Ritterskamp “Do you mind playing dead?” young German photographer Ian Ritterskamp asked his elderly neighbour Frau Fitschie while filming her for a videowork. Amazingly, the grumpy old woman obliged. The result is the eerie photograph on page 40. Ritterskamp studied at Düsseldorfer Kunstakademie, and is currently a motion designer for MTV Germany.

Magdalena Nowak Our new Warsaw B EAST is Magdalena Nowak, a 23-year old student who lived in Poland’s capital for a year during an Erasmus escape. We met her while on holiday in Estonia, where she told us all about Warsaw’s love/ hate relationship with it’s eastern suburb Praga. “Quit talking about it and start writing!” we told her, and so she did. Check out her Praga profile on page 72.

Khan of Finland (www.khanoffinland.com) If Prince were living in Berlin, he’d sound like half Finnish-half-Turkish Khanski, whose solo performances of sensual, ironic 80s-influenced electro music, with a cabaret twist, have won criticial acclaim and spurred his gypsy lifestyle. Based in Berlin, he travels constantly, both performing and seeking new inspirations. Having lived in East Berlin for many years, he finally decided to move out. His funny essay ‘Leaving the West’ is his farewell to the district. Page 40.

‘

The reason, as editor Joel Alas writes in his essay on ‘How the East Was Won’ is the wind. To paraphrase Dylan, ‘The answer, fellow B-easts, is blowing in the wind.’ Since the wind in Europe and America mostly blows from west to east due to the rotation of the earth, city planners during the industrial revolution built factories in the east so that the toxic air would blow away from the city, further eastwards… For the rich in their villas in the West, Kipling’s maxim that ‘East and West, never the twain shall meet’ suited them just fine. The legacy of industrialization and global wind patters is the industrial, arty/ underground east sides of cities. While East Europe was slow to jump on the bandwagon, the east sides of their cities are now seen as more dynamic and countercultural than the rest. For this special issue, we interview Czech artist David Cerny, whose mutant baby sculptures crawling up Prague’s TV Tower resonate with the gritty mystique of its Zizkov suburb above the river. Warsaw’s Praga (not to be confused with Prague), which is on the other side of the river and was a no-go zone for many years, is now bustling with atmospheric bars, lofts, artist spaces, and vodka distilleries turned into art galleries and performance spaces. We interview zany performance art group 3 Boys Move, and take our readers on a hip tour of Praga. Just in the last five years, East London has eclipsed Notting Hill and Portobello Road as the ‘in’ neighborhood for the alternative crowd. We present young East European photographers based there for the issue, and will be doing regular updates on our website, www.beastnation.com from the East’s new frontier in London. As the magazine gains more of a transatlantic audience, we bring you two fashion stories from East Brooklyn, one of which is inspired by ‘Liquid Sky’, an 80s cult film about aliens feeding on junkies, directed by Russian émigré Slava Tsukerman.

Maisie Hitchcock Germans have a new-found obsession with “Ostalgia,” the rose-coloured remembrance of the former GDR. Maisie Hitchcock has caught a bad dose of it as well. She's a lively Londoner who now lives in Berlin researching all things East German. Her feature-length radio documentary on GDR DJs was the basis for her first story for B EAST, and her next project will be a profile on the GDR's state artist or ‘court painter’, the much maligned Walter Womacka. Page 68.

Busy building our web portal to the region, and organising events across Europe, we took a bit longer than usual putting this issue together. The global downturn has had its impact, but we’re pushing ahead with our December issue despite the credit squeeze. Meanwhile, log onto our website and check out B EAST parties in your area. We’re starting a ‘Nasty, Nasty’ party series in Riga; and organising another one in cooperation with Budapest’s Kollektiva. Zatim,

Vijai Maheshwari Editor-in-Chief

contents

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t o t h e N e w E u ro p e ’ s p rovo c at i v e fa s h i o n a n d at t i t u d e g l o s s y !

beast bites Street portraits Praga

Beast bites

The invisible artist

Wroclaw's original street artist 13 Inside the belly of Sónar

Fanning the flames of BBB

Milan-Paris-NY-Spitalfields?

Tinc clothing

SMS Journal

belly of the beast Moscow

Prague

Kazimierz

Riga

Warsaw

Tallinn

samizdat

beastie boys

sexy east

How the East was won

DJ-ing in DDR

Ikea world

Warsaw's Praga

Déja Vu in East Prague

Liquid Sky

East London's Little Bandit

East Vilnius

East Brooklyn

Discover the region’s emerging countries, cities, youth trends and vast creative talent.

B Inspired by our edgy fashion editorials and pictorials.

triple six Praga's Peculiar Poetry

Hamburg's Juri Gagarin

Bohemian Like You

Ladytron's Mira Aroyo

DJ Joro Boro

Put Your Hands Up For Riga

Leaving the East

B EAST raids Iraq

Scoring Xanax

Hypnotic Klezmer

Still Cerny

Ninja Tune's Daedelus

This is not England

‘Eat the Old Europe’ by reading B EAST Magazine T h e E a s t i s t h e New W e s t Log onto www.beastnation.com and click on the icon.

From East London with Love 46

a l l s u b s c r i b e r s w i l l r ece i v e a f r ee Sk u n kF u n k t - s h i r t i n s p i r e d b y p o l a n d ’ s i n f a m o u s K s : T h e k a c z y n s k i t w i n s ( Be q u i ck ! W e o n l y printed a limited number).

b east bites

A Street Portraits from Praga, East Warsaw’s Bohemian Neighborhood

Photos by Charlotte Sieradzka

Patrick, 18

Photographer Lukasz, 39

I edit “Magazyn Praga”

What makes Praga special?

Contrast.

Nothing special, just another good district like any other. What’s your favourite accessory for a night out in Praga’s many bars and clubs?

Not going out in Praga, but to Saturator, for the cigarettes.

What’s your favourite accessory for a night out in Praga’s many bars and clubs?

My camera.

Anna, 33

Mateusz, 90

Egyptologist and film researcher

Artist designer and promotor

What makes Praga special?

Student

Architecture, old fashioned style and old people.

What makes Praga special?

What’s your favourite accessory for a night out in Praga’s many bars and clubs?

Bow tie.

Red lipstick.

Bianca, 19

Bartek Arobal, 24

Illustration artist

It is special because I live here, the atmosphere is unique and you can feel the old Warsaw.

The architecture.

What makes Praga special?

The chaos. What’s your favourite accessory for a night out in Praga’s many bars and clubs?

Brass knuckles.

What’s your favourite accessory for a night out in Praga’s many bars and clubs?

I think of not having too much money so they wont steal it.

b east bites

We told you so...

Happy birthday, comrades

Last year we warned you about the impending comeback of the cassette as a fashion accessory. Back then, some smart students in Tartu, Estonia, were using tapes as coin wallets. Now humble cassettes are being used for everything from Ipod holders to cigarette cases. One reader snapped this pic of a cassette belt on the streets of Kreuzberg. Spotted something we should know about? E-mail the editor – joel@beastnation.com

Berlin isn’t an easy place to sell, well, anything, since it’s lay-about artistic inhabitants barely earn enough to afford even a kebab for dinner. So na zdorovje to our friends Cynthia and Gernot, who have slaved and struggled to establish Redspective, a funky Eastern European-themed fashion and art shop in Berlin’s Mitte district. The shop houses a great collection of Eastern designers, Soviet retro items and quality magazines (including B EAST and Dik Fagazine). In August the store celebrated its first birthday with a sale. We hope they’re around for many more years to help promote and represent the East. Visit www.redspective.com

Berlin’s shit-smeared Biennial How bad was the recent Berlin Biennial art exhibition? So bad that someone smeared his own shit on the wall of the gallery in protest. Read our scathing review of the bland and boring Biennial on our website, which is regularly updated with stories and snippets you won’t find in the magazine. Head to www. beastnation.com

Knitwear turns sexy Two DJs and a bottle of Jack

Baltic designers are taking inspiration from their grandmothers for their new collections. This is knitwear, though not the dowdy stuff you see at craft stalls. For the ladies, Latvia’s Inta Dumbrava creates slinky and sometimes revealing knit tops. Dumbrava honed her knitting skills while imprisoned as a political dissident in Soviet Latvia – the reason why this collection is named “Latvian Jail Wears”. Now Dumbrava sells her clothes at markets and via e-mail orders. Get in touch through the website www.idstyle.info, or by e-mail, dacija@gmail.com. And for the men, Lithuanian label GP Jeans is trying to start a cardigan revival. GP Jeans is Giedrius Paulauskas, a Lithuanian designer who creates high-end jeans, jackets and accessories exclusively for men. His knitted cardigans could be this winter’s hot new style – or at least they could finally put an end to the skinny black jacket craze of last winter. Check out his designs at www.giedriuspaulauskas.com

Fashion Week reports The recent Berlin Fashion Week featured a few surprises from the East. We particularly liked the handcrafted items from Slava Martinovic, who creates specialized silk, leather and lace garments, as well as jewellery and shoes. She was even brave enough to take on the concept of the jumpsuit and give it a fresh twist. Slava was born in Belgrade, grew up in Hong Kong, studied at the London College of Fashion, then worked as a stylist for films and magazines in the US. We expect she’ll follow in the footsteps of Roskanda Ilincic, another Belgrade-born designer who is currently taking London by storm.

The Eugene Hütz moustache competition Gogol Bordello’s enigmatic frontman Eugene Hütz is leading a moustache revival. We’ve noticed a growing number of gentlemen sporting bushy facial hair ever since Eugene’s rise to fame. Is somebody running a look-a-like contest that we’re not aware of? If not, perhaps we should start one. Send your entries to joel@ beastnation.com

We always thought Metal On Metal were cool, but we never knew how cool until... In late July we invited the Lithuanan DJ team to perform at one of our B EAST parties in Viljandi, Estonia. The party was a wild three-day affair which ended when police shut down the bar – a sure indication of a successful event, we say. The party featured dozens of bands, but by far the wildest set of the weekend belonged to Metal On Metal, who managed to down a litre of Jack Daniels before performing. The set was colossal. It started with both DJs standing, then kneeling, then lying on the stage. It ended ten minutes before the boys’ bus to the airport departed. The audience was still cheering as they ran out of the venue to the bus station. No wonder the Chemical Brothers invited them to perform as support act during a recent Baltic tour. Check ’em out at www.myspace.com/ nesakykmamai

b east bites

Wroclaw’s original street artist By Joel Alas

The invisible artist

Why Europe’s most visible street artist stays hidden By Joel Alas, B EAST editor

His artwork is as impressive as it is large – complex murals that reach up the sides of city buildings. He doesn’t reveal his real name, and when he works in public he shrouds his head under a rag (see photo left). So why does the Italian painter known only as Blu chose to remain anonymous? B EAST tracked down the mysterious Blu at a street art exhibition in Wroclaw, Poland. “Today, the artist is sometimes more important than the art. The focus should be on the message,” he told us, relaxing after completing a huge mural of a man sleeping on a pillow of money, and another of a woman wearing a giant dress of locks and bolts. There are other more legal and less moral reasons Blu hides his identity. “Some of my work is illegal. I am wanted by police in some cities for my work,” he said. Blu’s murals decorate buildings across Europe, from the Tate Modern in London to Berlin’s Schlesisches Strasse district. He recently visited Wroclaw to take part in Out of Sth, a street art exhibition hosted by the edgy Awangarda Gallery. The exhibition was a major coup for the gallery and its hard working (and hard partying) staff, and helped to further Wroclaw’s reputation as one of the funkiest little cities in the east. They managed to attract some of the biggest names in street art, and helped inject a splash of colour into the greyer areas of the city. As well as Blu, Out of Sth featured work by the French artist Remed (who also demonstrated his rapping skills at the opening party when he hijacked the microphone). Aurelien Arbet, 108, 2SH, Beefree, Galeria Rusz, Flying Fortress, Jeremie Egry, Jan Danebod, Joe83, Mike Swaney, Mcity, PMH, Olaf Brezeski, Samul Francois, Stefan Marx, Truth, Zbiok and Wojciech Gilewicz also contributed murals and installations. But by far the most controversial work of the exhibition was Peter Fuss’s giant poster predicting the death of a US presidential candidate. The poster, which screamed “Who killed Barrack Obama?”, attracted plenty of curious passers-by into the gallery. One concerned American couple raced inside to check if they had missed a news bulletin.

Wroclaw’s art scene is out to party. Banging hip-hop echoes around the courtyard of Awangarda, the city’s contemporary art gallery, as a crowd circulates, sipping hearty Polish beer and exchanging opinions about street art. It’s opening night of Out of Sth, Wroclaw’s first urban art exhibition, an impressive display of murals and installations by some of Europe’s best street artists. A Frenchman hijacks the microphone and lets fly with improvised rap. The exhibition’s young co-curator is swinging around the gallery foyer on a boxing bag, one of the installations. A police van slows down to survey the chaos, then drives off unperturbed. It wasn’t always like this. Before street art went mainstream and government-funded, vandals put their liberty on the line to deliver their messages. “Every word we wrote was a risk,” says Andrzej Rogowski (pictured below), Wroclaw’s original street artist. We met Rogowski at the Out of Sth opening party, sitting in a shadowy corner of the courtyard with a beer in his hand and a content seenit-all-before expression on his face. After all, he has seen it all before. Rogowski was one of the city’s first citizens to put words on a wall back in the early 80s. A few years later, he was in Brixton to see KRS-One in labour pains giving birth to a genre. Now, at age 57, he lives a quiet life working as a private English tutor, content to simply be one Wroclaw’s unsung heroes. We struck up a conversation about anonymity. “I don’t understand how these artists can be happy that no-one knows their names,” I told him as we discussed the exhibition’s featured artists, who appeared in the program mostly under pseudonyms or three-letter initials, “How can you put your work on a wall, then walk away? How do you know if has an impact?” “It always has an impact, even if just one person sees it,” Rogowski answered. “If you make a message that is relevant to the

people in that area, someone will see it and be affected.” It took years for Rogowski to realize the impact of his work. He began spray-painting slogans across Wroclaw at the age of 24, using cans smuggled in from Hungary (“It was quite hard to get here at the time.”). He repeated a handful of slogans, some of which can still be seen on walls in neglected parts of the city. Nothing is Necessary, he painted, encouraging citizens to abandon their obligations to the Soviet system. Sometimes he would be interrupted mid-spray, leaving simply Nothing as a short-hand version of his slogan. Passports for Everybody, he demanded, at a time when a Poland with open borders was inconceivable. And his most uplifting, Be Beautiful, was a shaft of light in dark times. “Years later, I was talking to a friend. She told me this phrase, Be Beautiful, had given her hope about change and made her positive. ‘You know I wrote that,’ I told her. She had no idea it was me.” Recently, the city’s street art scene has been stuck in a creative slump. Juvenile tags and football team support slogans are the only visible traces of an active graffiti community. “You know, for a city with a street art exhibition, Wroclaw doesn’t seem to have much of the stuff,” I told Awangarda Gallery’s director Pawel Hrodzki. He nods in agreement. “That’s partly why we are doing this event – to encourage people to take back the public space and treat it as their own,”Hrodzki said. It’s hard to imagine the Out of Sth exhibition won’t have an impact, given it’s scope and quality. Dozens of walls across the city are now decorated in massive murals painted by some of the biggest names in urban art today. There they will remain, serving as inspiration to the young can-wielding decorators of Wroclaw for years to come. Be Beautiful, they seem to say.

East Wroclaw – The Bermuda Triangle Wroclaw’s grungy inner-east is a sooty suburb known as The Bermuda Triangle, a nickname earned during the dark years of the early 80s when Poland’s race to freedom was temporarily frozen by the imposition of marshal law. As Andrzej Rogowski recalls, heavy-handed militia would roam the streets at night, punishing those caught out after the 10pm (and later 11pm) curfew. But Wroclaw’s east was one area even the militia were wary of. “It was called The Bermuda Triangle because sometimes the militia men would go missing there. The greatest trophy was a militia man’s gun. They stopped going there in their ones and twos, they would only visit in packs of ten,” Rogowski said. “It made us smile each time we heard a story of people fighting back in The Bermuda Triangle. Wroclaw was one of the toughest revolutionary towns, and this area was the most proletariat.”

b east bites

Inside the belly of the Sonar Beast Nasty Nastyas is the name for our forthcoming party series, and judging from the line-up this year’s Sonar Music Festival had plenty of that sassy chick-power vibes, with a line-up that included Roisin Murphy, Goldfrapp, Chloe, Miss Kittin – and our supacilious m.i.a. Music besides, Sonar has turned into Europe’s favorite party festival (not muddy Glastonbury, that seems provincial in its embrace of Jay-Z!). Sonar isn’t about guitar rock, thankfully, and being Spanish, steers clear of the English obsesion with celebrity. Sure, Serbia’s Exit and Poland’s Heineken Open’er have similar line-ups, but the Sonar-ers easily outstyle (we’re not saying out-beast! Are we?) their Eastern counterparts. Eat the West. Yeah. Take another spoonful. Especially if we gonna look like this after a few servings.

Fanning the Flames of Bread & Butter Bread & Butter, Barcelona’s tradeshow for selected brands, was steaming this year, not just because it attracted most of the coolest brands in Europe, and beyond. It was also just hot and humid in southern Spain, the sort of weather that drives most Indians or Texans to the comfort of their air-conditioned offices and living rooms. Europeans like the heat though — which is still a relative novelty in these global warming times — and, so while some premises were airconditioned, especially those in the swankier Urban Superior and Denim Base areas, many had to deal with the heat. Especially those stuck in the concrete sweatbox of the gargantuan Sport & Street area. Our sympathies went out to Reebok, which had one of the coolest stands at the fair, but was stuck in Barcelona’s version of Dante’s Inferno — down, down in the basement. The heat, though, meant that fans (the objects, not the star-fuckers) were in high demand, and those brands savvy enough to hand out their own punkahs certainly got more bang for their buck than biz-as-usual stickers and fliers. We went around photographing fashionistas fanning themselves, and here you go.

b east bites

Milan—Paris—New York—Spitalfields? Dispatch from East London: Swatch Alternative Fashion Week — Text by Karena Akhavein

Once the epitome of dodgy, the East End of London has become a hotspot for up-and-coming fashion talent. At the forefront is Alternative Arts, a non-profit organization based in E1, which organizes the Swatch Alternative Fashion Week each April. Situated in super-trendy Old Spitalfields Market, the event been gaining momentum since its inception in 2001 to become one of the more important events on the fashion circuit. London Fashion Week is too expensive a proposition for many designers, so the opportunity Alternative Fashion Week offers to put on a free, high-visibility show can jump start a career. University College lecturer Jennifer Hughes says, “This kind of exposure is fantastic. Alternative Fashion Week provides an opportunity for truly innovative designers to present their work directly to the press, the public and fashion industry.” Maggie Pinhorn, the organizer of the refreshingly democratic event, where admission is free, front row seats are shared by top editors and plebes, and there is not a VIP section in sight, says, “We are not in fashion. We are an arts organization. Fashion is an exciting and original art form.” But all of this democracy and opportunity is a two-sided blade: out of the hundreds of applicants, there are a few brilliant designers whose work is deservedly cast into the spotlight. And then there are those who would have invested more effort into showing their collections had they actually invested their own funds. Below, we examine good, the bad, and the ugly, the talented and the mediocre, and those who really put the “alternative” in Alternative Fashion Week.

JK Designs: Jane Dennerly and Kay Haskins’ use of recycled materials is admirably environmentally friendly, but when the transformation is so incomplete and yawn-worthy, it leaves us thinking the stuff might have been better off in a landfill. A so-called gender-bending man’s skirt is ridiculous: it combines an attempted recreation of the newspaper print that Galliano did better years ago with a shape that might have been new when Gaultier came up with it. On closer inspection, the skirt looks to be pieced together out of old shirts and pinstriped boxer shorts with words printed on. The guy model is topless, which is the easy way out. The public would at least have wanted to see how one could realistically accessorize this skirt. The next look comprises of a flowered apron over run-of-the-mill jeans and a white T, accessorized with sunglasses. Maybe we have no imagination or vision, but to us this says “housewife at a barbeque” more than “alternative fashion.” Then comes a hideous vintage-looking dress which I suspect is not even altered from when they bought it at the flea market, a “night club siren gone wrong” look with a black vest and mohair miniskirt, and an unshocking “androgynous” girl in jeans and a white vest. It’s a bit boring, and it totally doesn’t go together. These supposedly re-purposed clothes represent a very sophomoric effort, if effort there was.

Kelly Ashworth: A recent graduate from the University of Northhampton, Ashworth jumped on the “green” bandwagon with her allwhite collection consisting of repurposed vintage linen. Making something fresh out of old embroidered tea towels and sheets is no easy proposition, but Ashworth succeeds in creating garments that are equal parts oldfashioned and modern. Her lacy pinafores, mutton sleeve blouses, and flouncy skirts worthy of Degas’ little ballerinas are chock-ablock of details like ruching, mutton sleeves, and peter pan collars, but, styled with utter simplicity and worn with soft court shoes, they seem to meld a very English sensibility with Belgian-style minimalism.

Amy Hostler: Hostler claims to be “inspired by the rag time era,” so the fact that she sent her models down the catwalk in primary-color clown-at-a-nightclub outfits topped with weird red bubbly hats and had them pose like mimes is a bit confusing. The worst thing is, some of the dresses- sans extrasmight actually have been deemed wearable were it not for the distractingly ridiculous styling and accessories.

Hasan Hejazi: This Muslim designer from Manchester claims to be inspired by Madonna, but it doesn’t really show. One can see some early Tom Ford influences in Hejazi’s colorful feathery coats and black and red color scheme. A play on contrasting volume and texture, with slick PVC teamed with soft feathers and flowing silk, ends up creating a Russian doll effect. This designer has a lot of fashion confidence and is definitely one to watch.

Cooltan Arts: When we saw the models for the show, we were optimistic, because they were definitely “alternative”: ranging from an Amazon with blazing pink hair and womanly curves, to a completely “average” woman (which looks totally weird on a runway of course), to a lovely lady who looked like she might be the designer’s grandmother. The actual collection was a big disappointment and an example of a designer not pushing herself as hard as she could. Boring Kimonos looked like they were bought on Portobello Road, given a few pokes with a needle and thread, belted, and sent down the runway. The pink-haired model’s look was a long turquoise kimono that depended too much on styling to give it any interest, paired with a fuschia fan that matched her hair and obscured the details (if any) of the garment. But if the designer was going for a Manga look, she fell woefully short. Gwen Stefani does it way better. The granny model came out looking like she was wearing a shapeless bathrobe, and when the designer emerged to take her bow, she clutched the best looking accessory in the show: her child.

Jessica Odoi: Influenced by 18th-century court clothes, this menswear designer sent men out on the runway in purple brocade Ziggy Stardust suits, gorgeous vests, elegant white scarves, and a dramatic gold brocade coat. It was all very The Little Prince-meets-lawn-jockey, running of the bulls, and ridicule, but in the best possible way. The models curtsied at the end of the runway and walked carefully to showcase the eccentric volumes of the garments, which emphasized the hips. It’s what all women have been waiting for with bated breath: finally there is a clothing line that will make men want to whine, “does my ass look fat in this?” Shakella ljaz: Her wittily-named Court 2 Court collection was one of the most innovatively styled yet wearable at Alternative Fashion Week. Playing on the layering of tailored and sport clothing, the looks included super-sophisticated and elegant monochrome hoodies, pinstripes paired with jersey, and slim-cut grey trousers worn with white shirts layered over a white hoodie, suspenders, and a necktie that were evocative of both depression era chic and urban athletic dandies. Some of the women’s hoods seemed to reference both sports and Ijaz’s Pakistani heritage. The only gripe is that most of the trousers could have been more interesting.

Adil Iqbal: Influenced by the Kalash tribe in Northern Pakistan, who must be pretty snappy dressers, the young designer showed a surprisingly large and cohesive collection. Many of the pieces would be perfect for a autumn or winter cocktail party, so we’re guessing that Iqbal got a good reaction from buyers. Gray, metallics, black, and burgundy ruled the color scheme. Some looks were a bit boring, but many had interesting construction or details to steer them away from the too-classic. The cutaway jackets and coats were particularly successful.

Robert Miller: His collection was called “Pretty Pervy” and that pretty much sums it up. This is definitely one of the designers who read the “alternative” bit to mean “alternative lifestyle.” But compared to Kaori Matsubara, whose latex-intensive collection was too conventionally fetishistic, with an all-latex geisha complete with apparent asscrack and a ridiculous “gimp” in head-to-toe silver latex and ball-and-chain prop, Miller’s collection was humorous and innovative. The first look is best described as alien PVC bondage-Smurf. There were also a few gas mask wearing insect-like creatures with incredibly inflated hips that would drive anyone with a bee or ladybug fetish wild. There was also a goth alien and an anemone gone wild that would make Nemo blush. The shapes, volumes, and color choices are absolutely out of this world, and leaves us thinking that if Miller would only expand his range of materials, his work would be even more interesting.

b east bites

b east bites B east’s Best Looks: Accelerator Smoking Jacket paired with Infinite Jodhpurs: This look is reminiscent of Martin Margiela’s Hermes looks: Ultra modern yet equestrian, with a great sense of texture and proportion. The jacket is cotton mixed with foil to create a nubby tweed, and the jodhpurs are wool suiting. It’s something for a slightly alternative, brunette Grace Kelly type. The Infinite Origami, which is an ingenious black hugely versatile Cashmere-blend knit, has zips and snaps, and can be worn upsidedown. When worn the “regular” way, it has a large, dramatic cowled collar that can be adjusted via the snaps. When flipped over, it becomes a cozy, form-fitting, more conventional long sweater that can be unzipped from both top and bottom. The arms are ultra-slim and flattering. This is paired with the incredibly soft Cashmere blend Orbit leggings, which feature several eccentric color choices and contrast banding at the fold-over waist and at the knee. These can be worn high or low-waisted.

Tinc Clothing

Notorious East Bay resident Savannah Knoop designs clothing with an Eastern Philosophy

Designer Savannah Knoop, who is still in her twenties, has already been adored by the A-list and been the subject of countless articles and photographs, but fashion had nothing to do with it. A slim young woman with a boyish punk haircut, Savannah is extremely soft-spoken, possibly still publicitycautious after the media circus following her unmasking as the public face of the fictional literary wunderkind J.T. Leroy, supposedly a teenage transsexual HIV-positive prostitute. For two years, Savannah participated in what has been described as one of the greatest literary hoaxes of a generation. In that time, disguised in a blonde wig, hat, and sunglasses, she met and befriended numerous celebrities, including Winona Ryder, Asia Argento, Calvin Klein, Mike Pitt, Gus Van Sant, Steven Klein, and Jurgen Teller. “For me, it was an escape. J. T. could be as kooky or crazy as he wanted to be; boundaries weren’t expected of him,” she says. “I got to be pretty loose. It opened me up, it was very playful and transformative. I’m not all that outgoing, but I got to act that way. It was a different dance than my regular life. We never intended to hurt anybody.” Savannah’s memoir Girl Boy Girl, which follows the story of how she became J. T., will be released by Seven Stories Press in October. When Savannah was unmasked as J. T. Leroy, it was a huge relief, but the transition from rubbing shoulders with the glitterati in West Hollywood to a night job waitressing in San Francisco’s gritty East Bay must not have been an easy one. But the young woman is positive and optimistic. Everything she does now supports fashion design, an activity that is helping her to rediscover her true self. As Savannah explained to Publisher’s Weekly, “I [still] have some gender and sexuality idiosyncrasies, but I feel more comfortable.” The clothes she designs now, she says, reflect where she is. “They could almost be unisex, but they’re definitely for women.” There is a tangible masculinefeminine tension in Savannah’s designs, which makes them extremely interesting: some of the clothes are ladylike, but there is always a boyish touch, an exploration of gender and identity. Androgyny becomes a style statement and a show of a new type of strength. Knoop says, “In my line, I’m trying for a ‚60s gamine feeling. Some of the pieces, like the fleece snap sweatshirt, are almost like armor. I like to use sturdy fabrics; I like to show the body, but I don’t like to be too revealing.” The bodies that best

suit Savannah’s Tinc clothing line would be similar to her own: slim to the point of waifishness, but with a certain wiry strength and an unexpected, atypical femininity. These possibly result from Knoop’s serious practice of capoeira, a Brazilian martial art set to music, and that requires extreme agility and the use of strategy. The name of her fashion line, “Tinc,” comes from a Thai word meaning “to throw away,” but the clothing is the antithesis of disposable fashion. Savannah Knoop was an early adopter of the California green trend, constructing everything locally, using sustainable fabrics and low impact dyes. She runs errands on her bicycle and hand-sews many of her pieces herself in her cluttered Market Street studio. Available at high-end, high-concept retailers such as Opening Ceremony and Takashimaya in New York, Tinc designs look like nothing else on the market, because they are the opposite of trendy and can be worn for years thanks to their enduring look that balances eccentricity and classicism as well as their quality. Tinc’s clothes are works of art. Like valuable prints or photographs, each garment is numbered, part of a limited series. Indeed, the materials lend the clothes the air of something from a vintage photograph: organic cotton, recycled French tweed, hemp, bamboo, wood pulp, organic wool and silk blends, and seacell, which is spun of seaweed, lend the clothes the air of something from a vintage photo. They are refined, elegant, and durable yet gently unraveled and rumpled. The clothing is versatile and challenging, requiring that the wearer style it in their own individual way through layering, fit, or by using the zips and snaps present on many pieces, such as the “origami” sweatshirt, which can also be worn upside down. The tension between the modern and the classical is present in the names of the looks, which range from “Quantum” and “Accelerator” to “Cassini” and “Seymour.” Savannah explains that the tailoring is indeed influenced by garments worn by the aeronautical engineers who manned mission control for early space exploration. Tinc’s director of color, Nathan, hand-silkscreened galaxies onto futuristic yet environmentally friendly fabrics. Using non-toxic formulas, he hand-dyed organic cotton the color of a rocket ship’s incendiary plume. The optimism and vision of the astronauts seems to speak to Savannah, who may have left Hollywood behind but is still shooting for the stars.

“For two years, Savannah participated in what has been described as one of the greatest literary hoaxes of a generation. In that time, disguised in a blonde wig, hat, and sunglasses, (and pretending to be transexual writer J.T. Leroy) she met and befriended numerous celebrities, including Winona Ryder, Asia Argento, Calvin Klein, Mike Pitt, Gus Van Sant, Steven Klein, and Jurgen Teller.”

b east bites

SMS Journal This mag’s about hyping the East, the New Europe, its endless possiblities, party life, creative synergies, occasional riots, and wicked cities that nobody except for us knows about. What better way to bring this region up close than printing sms’s that beasties have received—or sent out—during the course of printing this issue. As is usual with us, we divide the sms’s into BEAUTY and the BEAST.

beauty

Hi, mate, this is Tanya from Friday Xlib club, do you remember me? How are you? We talked about meeting together, but yesterday we were lying dead in fucking hangover ;)

Just came back from a great trip to the delta in Astrakhan with a girlfriend. Going to Odessa for 10 days. Then Gstaad. Speak soon. I have to admit that I didn’t have time to read that B EAST you gave me but I did yesterday and it’s super dirty-sexy-cool! Loved a comic-style story by some lat/lit girls.

BRIC rules! If don’t make it successful cool lucrative we are loosers …

The eights are so up for it it’s ridiculous – not even Kiev comes close ;) The genius of Lukashenko. The Belarussian National Beauty Competition after-party is at the President’s own pad.

Hi, I had an epiphany. I’m canceling my birthday party and going to Crimea. The champagne and girls are on ice at the presidential suite in Yalta.

07/09/200S8TADIUM, RIGA, DAUGAVA LATVIA

So super cool .. Was hanging out with Peaches last night, dominic wood and his wife are best mates. We were at a new club called Scarla. Super geil!! What a city... I am going to marry Queenie. I am so damm into her..

beast

Gettting stoned with a Russian businessman who has a babe in Kharkhov. Says he always f*** someone on the train over  Might go next week

Girls are uber bitches in training. Lots of peasant attitude. Cool vibe tho Vilnius is a lot cheaper. Just spanked 15 euro on two vodkas. Dinner was 100 euro each. And my credit card failed. We have enough fuel to return to Vilnius (from Minsk!).

BGF PARTY AFTER

I’m coming to Madison. Then we go to Overtime. And get smashed. Wait for me or suffer terrible consequences.

No worries. It’s terrible anyway. All provincial tarts and body odoured Sergei’s.

Good. Had fun at Essential after. Not my music but loads of girls. A guy or two wanted to beat the shit out of me but that’s just a compliment.

S/ ARTISTS / DPJS’/ CONTESTS WORKSHO

EE ENTRANCEF.LFVR WWW.BG

OK I fell in love with a Belarussian stripper who is a disciple of Rajneesh! Is that normal?

Vice events are like frat parties for cool geeks!

07/09/2008RIKA, SAPNU FABIA RIGA, LATV

N O I T I T E P M O C E LIV OF THE BEST I T I F F A R G C I T L S BA T S I T R A I think I freaked those Spanish girls out – they left saying Russia is definitely more wild than Spain. Shock and awe does not work in Berlin!

FRIENDS: SUPPORT BY

0 START AT P2E1N.0FROM 20.00 DOORS O TICKETS AT

INFO SUPPOR

ORGANIZED B

RVISS21.LV E S U S E IL .B W WW

sexy beast Photographer: Tomas Kauneckas Stylist: Kristina Kolevaityte Makeup: Laura Kreivyte Postproduction: Rimas Šablinskas, Karolis Polikša Models: Edita, Irma, Giedre (“Baltic Model Management” agency)

e ast vilnius 22

Clothes: Sonata Bylaitė, Vitalis Čepkauskas, Laura Dailidėnienė, Jurga Januškevičiūtė-Žiugždienė, Kristina Kruopenytė ir Egidijus Sidaras, Diana Paukštytė, Giedrius Paulauskas, Olga Prytkova and Ina Polotniak, Sandra Straukaitė, Ieva Ševiakovaitė and Jolanta Rimkutė

samizdat The urban map of an average European city is a curious reflection of the continent as a whole. To the west lies the affluent areas - well-developed after decades of stability, home to old money, staid and predictable, comfortable and boring. To the east are the regions of struggle and change, misunderstood zones of poverty and prejudice where well-heeled citizens fear to venture.

won How the East was

Why are the East sides of cities always more creative, intriguing and dynamic than the West sides? As B EAST editor Joel Alas discovered, the answer is blowing in the wind.

But what the east sides lack in wealth, they make up for in dynamism. It’s there that you’ll find the artists, the philosophers, the innovators and the culture-shapers. The houses are more colourful, the population more diverse, and the nightlife edgier. It’s as true for the east sides of London, Berlin, Warsaw and Prague as it is for the east of Europe in general; the micro mirrors the macro. Yet the reason that urban landscapes have developed with an east-west dichotomy can’t be pinned on politics (except, curiously, in Berlin, a city which acts as a virtual petri dish experiment for the entire continent – but more about that later). So if Communism can’t be blamed for urban imbalances, what is the reason for this east/poor/sexy, west/rich/boring pattern? The answer is remarkably organic – the wind. The spread of humanity has forever been at the mercy of the winds. They determined where we could sow crops, where we could build settlements, where we could sail ships, and eventually, how we developed cities. In the northern hemisphere, the rotation of the earth, the pull of the poles and the dispersal of the Sun’s heat create a prevailing west-to-east wind pattern. This was most dramatically demonstrated in the aftermath of the Chernobyl nuclear power plant explosion. Radiation rained down on regions to the east and north-east of Chernobyl, most notably Belarus and Russia (crosswinds also spread radiation across parts of Scandinavia and Western Europe, though to a far lesser extent).

East Side R evolution in East Europe The east side revolution took longer to arrive in Eastern Europe, but in the early 1990s, creative minds took their right brain-driven concepts to the right side of the map. The eastern enclave of Uzupis in Vilnius was declared an independent artistic colony as mostly visual artists seized their chance to occupy derelict buildings nestled beside a fast-flowing river. Prague’s hilly eastern suburb of Zizkov (or Prague 3) remains Bohemian in the geographic and metaphoric sense. Warsaw’s Praga, vacated by its Jewish community post-World War II, denigrated into a slum perfect for breeding creativity. Budapest, split by the Danube River, is divided into boring Buda on the west side and pulsing Pest on the east – just ask a local which side is livelier. But the story of the east sides doesn’t end there. By the mid-90s, a new phenomena began reshaping the culture of these buzzing neighbourhoods – gentrification. The rich wanted to participate in the vibrant atmosphere created by poverty, though they wanted it their way, served on a platter next to their overpriced coffee. By their mere arrival, they began to erode the very culture they had come to sample. Nearly all the suburbs mentioned above are now in the grips of a class struggle as investors, intentionally or otherwise, squeeze the riff-raff from their low-rent apartments. Gentrification has become the greatest shift in urban development in cities worldwide since the end of World War II. As we publish this issue devoted to east sides everywhere, we do so with the sobering knowledge that all we celebrate will be gone by the end of the next decade.

“Yet the reason that urban landscapes have developed with an east-west dichotomy can’t be pinned on politics. What is the reason for this east/poor/sexy, west/rich/boring pattern? The answer is remarkably organic – the wind.” Wh at Next for the East Sides of Cities? Wind direction became crucial in the development of cities in the early 1800s, when the industrial revolution swept across Europe. Suddenly cities were confronted with the by-product of industry – pollution. Citizens were already familiar with the stench created by tanneries and slaughterhouses, and had learned to locate such offensive industries downwind, namely, in the east. This trend continued as factories and smokestacks were erected, sometimes through enforced urban zoning. From that moment onward, cities became divided economically and socially. The east sides were given over to the poor working class, the west became the reserve of the noxiously-sensitive rich. Olfactory concerns became monetary. The east sides took another blow during the two World Wars, particularly the Second, with its focus on aerial warfare. Bombing raids were generally targeted on the industrial areas of cities in order to destroy the factories that supported enemy armies and deprive them of the means of production. This led to the most dramatic alteration of urban landscapes since the Industrial Revolution, and one that laid the foundation of the cities we now know today. The east sides, the most heavily damaged, became the locations of mass rebuilding projects. Yet they remained the domain of the lower class, for the rich wanted nothing to do with the ugly, bomb-scarred, eastern neighbourhoods, or the imposing concrete housing projects erected there to shelter the poor and displaced. Visual concerns became monetary.

Fro m New Yor k’s Low er East Side to Ro m e’s Tr astev er e Jump forward a few decades to the 1950s, a period when art, literature and music tore away from mainstream culture. Artists were liberated to create like never before, though this new

renaissance came without the patronage of the rich. Whether the poor chose art or the artists chose poverty, the end result was a class of counter-culturalists in need of cheap housing. Thus began the third major transformation of the east sides. It began most notably in New York’s Lower East Side, and continues there to this day, despite the city’s astronomical cost of living. In Copenhagen, squatters headed to the island of Christiana, east of the centre, to found their oasis of quasi-legalized drug use in the 1970s (it was only shut down in recent years). The working class suburb of Trastevere in Rome, east of the historical center, became a center of art and activism. In Madrid, the eastern part of the city became known as Barrio de las Letras for its high concentration of writers. South-east of central Paris, the Latin Quarter rivalled Montmartre in the north as the creative hub of the city.

So where to next? To predict the course of urban population movements, look no further than Berlin, a city that is a true microscopic reflection of Europe. When the continent was divided, so too was Berlin. East Berlin became the creative lungs of the city, and today it is in the grips of a battle over gentrification. As recently as June, protesters burnt eight cars during a demonstration in Prenzlauerberg, chanting “Keine teueren Kaffé” – no expensive coffee, a symbol of the new rich who have taken over the suburb. In July, partying protesters marched in a vibrant street parade set to a techno soundtrack to voice their opposition to the “Media Spree”, an ugly commercial development on the banks of the river at Friedrichshain and Kreuzberg. Fight as they might, all indications show the lower class are losing the battle. In the last few years, those who have sniffed the winds of change have packed up and headed south. Neukölln, the colourful multicultural area that once was the south-eastern border of West Berlin, is emerging as the new Kreuzberg. In London, too, the east side is being slowly overtaken by the south as the cheap and creative district. Is south the new east? Not entirely, but the shift does seem to indicate that the culture shapers will be forever moving to suit their budget. The coming decades could have entirely new and unimagined consequences on urban population movements. Consider the impact when oil becomes entirely unaffordable – some cities will collapse, others will become even more concentrated as people seek out a lifestyle less dependent on petrol. The impending global recession will impact, possibly to halt unconstrained development and curb gentrification. Perhaps the future of our cities will again be thrown to the mercy of nature. After all, that’s how they began - on the whim of the wind.

triple six

praga’s peculiar poetry 3 boys move Text: Joel Alas / Photos: Dmitry Peretrutov

Are they a band? No, they don’t play well enough. Are they a bad band, then? No, everything seems to be choreographed second-bysecond. Is it comedy? No, the texts are too deep. Is it poetry? No, people laugh too much.

Hamburg’s Juri Gagarin Lo-fi Soviet electro Text: Joel Alas

Juri Gagarin are Germany’s entry to Electrovision, a new contest for shouty bands with synthesized beats, distorted guitars and treble-heavy screechy-squelchy noises. They’ll compete against France’s Justice and Sweden’s The Knife in what is expected to be a tight contest (though we expect Estonia’s Stella will come through with a surprise last minute victory).

Of all the recent artistic projects to emerge from the east of Warsaw, 3 Boys Move is possibly the most bizzare. Part music, part poetry, part performance art, 3 Boys Move demonstrate the diverse culture nutured in the once-slummy buildings of Praga – Warsaw’s misunderstood eastern suburb. A recent performance in France disintegrated into a boxing match, disappointing those who had come to hear music. But that’s the point of the group – to push the boundaries of words, sounds and movement. 3 Boys Move are Marcin Cecko, Jan Dravnel and Piotr Glowacki, plus one girl, Roma Gasiorowska. B EAST: Tell us about your home suburb Praga Marcin: Praga is a large part of the Warsaw in the east, right of River Wisla. Warsaw citizens connect this name with the red-bricked dangerous zone of neglected buildings that remind them of World War II times. Of course it’s kind of a stereotype to think like that about Praga, but one can’t deny that the atmosphere and people are different here. The western part of Warsaw has now become a very commercial business area, while the eastern part is still undiscovered and quite cheap. It is a shelter for alternative culture events with more interesting places to go. There are newer settlements as well, the bedrooms of Warsaw, built on areas that were previously fields. For example the place were I grew up, called Goclaw, was an airport, and my grandfather flew there on gliders. It is still unbearably windy there - this fact one can read from my poetry. What does a 3 Boys Move performance sound and look like? Well, it’s really strange, and it’s still changing. We started two and a half years ago with an idea to make fun of usual poetry performance styles. The two other boys, Piotr and Jan, are not musicians, but are young actors working in the best theaters in Poland. The book we were working on was called “Mów”, which means “Speak”. The title as read in Polish sounds very similar to the English “Move”, and for me as an author these two meanings were very important. That’s where the name 3 Boys Move came from. So we move. Instead of normal instruments – with the exception of an acoustic guitar – we use toys, dolls, a dance mat, inflatable instruments, a singing frog and so on. But it doesn’t just have a comedic meaning, because poetry is quite serious. For the public, it’s unpredictable. They don’t know who we are or what we are. Are they a band? No, they don’t play well enough. Are they a bad band, then? No, everything seems to be choreographed second-by-second. Is it comedy? No, the texts are too deep. Is it poetry? No, people laugh too much. And at the end of the concert, there is always someone from the public who enters the stage, gets very angry with us, takes out a gun and shoots us, and then reads his old-fashioned romantic poem. We are trying to ride the borders of sense.

What is the message of your poetry? I like to play with language and also I use poetry to describe possibilities of very inner experiences in modern society. My last book of poetry “Mów” included many poems which are very close to everyday speaking manner - they were sometimes cellphone discussions but they always meant something very different than that which the speaker would assume. How is Poland today? What is the attitude of the people? Of course there are lots of layers in such a big society like Poland. It’s great the government has changed and people have a larger field of view than their house, their cow and their church, and don’t feel ashamed all the time. Young people have started to believe that their lives are in their hands. Everything is so international, and that’s great. But for me, the times of happy clubbing, wild parties and choking on the new possibilities are over. It’s time for hard work. We at B EAST have a philosophy that the uglier the city, the better the nightlife. Do you agree? It’s simplifying but in the right direction. Why do people now have such clean modern houses? Because they want to get rid of dirt they have inside themselves, maybe. And it’s true that nightlife spreads geometrically. If someone started a place, you and someone else can do it near and you all benefit from that. This is how nightlife works in Warsaw. There are a few centers of clubs in very distant parts of the city. If you could destroy one building in Warsaw, which would it be and why? I don’t know why, but I understand this question to be: “If you could destroy the Palace of Science and Culture, why would you do that?” No, I would not destroy that one, but probably many would like to. I like to read the city as it is, and buildings are stories. Do you need to erase the weakest ones? I don’t think so. If I could destroy something, I’d destroy advertisements – the billboards that cover almost every free visual city space. Maybe the buildings these adverts cover are not the prettiest ones, but they are definitely better than that pest that hides them.

When we first saw their poster, we thought perhaps the first man in space was making a career comeback as a disco producer, a la William Shatner. Unfortunately, the real Juri Gagarin died in a plane crash in ‚68, and Shatner wasn’t ever really in space, so our hopes were baseless on two counts. Juri Gagarin is Sergej Hasolin and Arnold Kinzel, two Hamburg-based musicians who originate from Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan. They call their music “lofi Soviet electro”, with influences of punk and thrash. We call their music awesome, and think their videos are pretty hot, too. They performed at the legendary Fusion festival in June, and their tour book is full until winter, playing shows across Germany, Switzerland and Austria. (And, no, there is no real contest called Electrovision, but if someone starts it we expect to be on the guest list). What does a Juri Gagarin live show look like? Dancing, drinking (preferably vodka), sweating, screaming, going crazy and stomping holes into the stage, if there is one. The most important thing is getting people to dance and have a good time together. Do people ask you who Juri Gagarin was? Do they think that it is your name? Yeah, that actually happens from time to time. Once somebody wanted to know which of us is ‘Juri’ and who is ‘Gagarin’. And we’ve often had to explain, mostly to younger folks that Juri Gagarin was an astronaut and all that. (Smart-ass B EAST intern says: “Cosmonaut, perhaps?”) Juri or Yuri - how did you decide on the spelling? That was a question of aesthetics. Juri with J is simply sexier. Tell us about Hamburg. Is it hip and happening? Expensive and yuppied? Hip and happening depending on what kind of scene you’re into, music wise. It’s the same like in every town you spend some years in - sometimes things are exciting, and a lot of things seem to repeat themselves and get boring. Expensive and Yuppied. Yeah, Hamburg is a pretty expensive place to live and the districts that used to be mostly subcultural and alternative are getting to be victims of gentrification more and more during the past few years. That seems to be a common process in many cities unfortunately... cashing in on what’s cool and alternative. What is the furthest east you have ever been? Do you ever plan to play in Eastern Europe? Well, Arnold was actually born near the border between Kazakhstan and China in a small town named Taldy-Kurgan, and Sergej comes from Uzbekistan and was born close to the Afghanistan border. We both moved to Germany at the age of ten. Do you still own any cassettes? Sergej owns a cassette from the latest EP of labelmates Bratze, and Arnold owns a cassette of the band Final Exit. How many anagrams can you make from the word “Gazprom”? Just one: $$$ What else do you want the world to know about you? With us you can go to outer space without having to get in to a spaceship! www.myspace.com/jurigagarin

triple six

bohemian like you prague’s hipster night Text: Joel Alas / Photos: johana posova and jamie

Are true Bohemians (that is, people from the Czech region of Bohemia) offended by the appropriation of their name by lame hippies? I thought I’d find out by asking Michal, founder of the Prague party series Bohemian Like You, a monthly event that hosts small-to-mediumsized touring indie rock and electro bands.

Unfortunately I asked the wrong person. Michal isn’t a Bohemian, at least not in the geographic sense. He comes from Slovakia, but for the past six years has called Prague home. And Prague should be grateful that he does. Without Michal, the city would not have Sperm Festival, an underground celebration of electronic and experimental art and music. He founded Sperm Festival in 2006, and in October 2007 launched Bohemian Like You as a regular event for DJs and bands he could not fit on the festival bill. The name, he says, plays on “Czech vs hedonism duality”. B EAST: What was your best gig so far? Any standout performances? Michal: I really really liked Parts & Labor. They’re from Brooklyn/NY and I think they have a bright future ahead. They play melodic noise rock using guitars, drums, toy keyboards and their voices. In fact, we like them so much we’re giving them a second gig at BLY on July 6th 2008 with Mugison, the Icelandic indie folk hero. Have you invited the Dandy Warhols to play your party? Not yet. In fact, I thought they were long past dead, but apparently they are releasing a new album these days, and from what I’ve heard it doesn’t suck as much as their previous one, so who knows. And a few years back, when they played Prague for the first time, they threw a great afterparty.

Zizkov is one of our favourite Prague districts. What does this area mean to you? Is it changing for the better or worse? Which districts do you prefer? In the 90’s Zizkov was said to become Prague’s Kreuzberg, with lot of poor people and large gypsy community mixing with young, artist and expat crowd. It stopped half way getting there, but still has the most bars, clubs and underground galleries in Prague. It’s shabbier and cheaper than poshy Vinohrady but very close to the centre. I don’t see much change going on, really - in comparison to Karlin or Smichov, which have changed rapidly in the last five years. So, in a way, maybe it is Kreuzberg-like, but more pre-’89 Kreuzberg. Your parties are constantly on the move. Do you have a favourite bar/club? Still Akropolis in Zizkov, I guess. Although after midnight it’s not as fun as it used to be, they still host the best moderately sized bands in town, such as Dinosaur Jr., Digitalism, Whitest Boy Alive, Shellac, and Nathan Fake just to name a few from the this year. For pure energy rock shows it’s Klub 007, though. Would you like to have your own space? And if so, what would the Bohemian Like You club look/sound like? Running a venue is lot of work and that would mean we won’t have time to party that much! But look out for “Season 2008/2009”, we’re preparing a special, bigger gig for the 1st anniversary in October.

triple six Sofia’s airwaves are clogged with the sounds of chalga music, a localized mish-mash of pop, R’n’B, Serbian folk and gypsy sounds. Chalga manifests itself visually on dozens of Bulgarian music television channels with incredibly cheap and cheesy videos of girls dancing in wet t-shirts.

ladytron’s mira aroyo

on bulgarian chalga music Text: Joel Alas / Photos: Dmitry Peretrutov

“Out of every 100 tracks, one is amazing,” says Mira Aroyo, who collects dozens of chalga compilations each time she visits Sofia in the hope of discovering a rough diamond. Mira is better known as a member of Ladytron, the dark electro-clash band that had us all dancing with the track “Seventeen” (and several more since). She is one of the band’s two sultry singers, standing front of stage, fixing the audience with an ice-cold stare. Her songs, sung in the Bulgarian language she was raised with, were the most dynamic and energetic during the concert B EAST attended in Berlin this May. Mira’s Bulgarian roots are hidden behind the soft British accent she acquired after her family emigrated out of East Europe when she was ten years old, first to Israel then later to the UK. But her gorgeous dark features are a lasting reminder of her birthplace. She returns to Bulgaria twice a year to visit relatives, to go skiing in the untouristed mountain ranges, and to retain a connection to the country, which is currently undergoing an unhealthy rapid redevelopment. “Bulgaria is like Spain in the 70s,” she told B EAST, “Buildings are going up so fast but are not being finished properly. Older buildings are being left to waste. Beach resorts are built so badly that they destroy the beach. In the mountains, you have to walk through mud to get to your unfinished chalet. “You look around and see McDonalds and cheap tracksuits. That’s globalisation. Sofia is not my favourite city. It’s like East Berlin but less well maintained. The streets are quite dirty and poorly lit. There’s a lot of corruption.

“I’m not painting a very nice picture of the country, but that’s just certain parts. The good part is the countryside and the people. The mountains, the small villages are just amazing. Plovdiv is beautiful, and so are many other smaller cities.” Mira retains a soft spot for Bulgarian cinema, which she hopes will be boosted by the recent influx of British and American film production. Drawn by the country’s beautiful landscape and cheap workforce, Bulgaria rivals Romania as the new eastern Hollywood hotspot. Her affection for Serbian film directors inspired her to start planning a Bulgarian film festival in London, but her work with Ladytron kept her from completing the project. As for music, chalga remains the dominant force in popular culture. Mira hopes it will be refined to the point where it can one day be exported. When suggested that she should remix and release her favourite chalga tracks, she responded enthusiastically: “Yeah, it could be the next bit thing.” Or the next small thing. If chalga ever does manage to breach Bulgaria’s borders, it wouldn’t be the first time the country’s music was heard abroad. Kate Bush already dipped into Bulgarian culture when she teamed up with Trio Bulgarka, three throat singers with a strong reputation in the world music scene, and Bulgarians are well represented in classical music, with performers in orchestras across the world. And thanks to Mira, Bulgarian language is played in nightclubs around the world each time Ladytron gets an airing. She has sung ten tracks in Bulgarian across three albums, including their new record “Velocifero”, which was released in summer 2008.

New York DJ Joro Boro brings Bulgarian beats to the Lower East Side Text: Joel Alas

New York, like Europe, has long been defined by an east-west divide. Even today, as Manhattan sinks under the weight of its own importance, the Lower East Side retains a degree of cultural edginess that the West Side lost decades ago.

“There is a similarity between geographic East New York and Eastern Europe,” says Joro Boro, a Bulgarian-born DJ who has spun East-themed tunes for over a decade. “Whoever is playing authentic Eastern music is doing on the East Side. This area was related to the punk scene from the 70s, and it still has a marginal cool image. There are a lot of grungy clubs. Everything on the West Side is very high end, like the trendy Meatpacking District, where the bars and restaurants have a very glam crowd.” The East Side is where you’ll find pockets of genuine Eastern European culture, like the legendary Mehanata Bulgarian Bar at 113 Ludlow Street. Mehanata became famous for its raucous parties, thanks to unhinged DJ sets by Joro Boro and his friend Eugene Hütz from Gogol Bordello, who held a Thursday night residency at the bar before his hectic tour schedule interfered. Joro Boro is now also absent from the Mehanata schedule (“It was time to move on,” he says), but the bar is still an amplifier for upbeat Balkan, gypsy, folk and world music styles. Instead, you’ll find Joro Boro and scores of other world music DJs and musicians on stage at Drom on Avenue A, just a few blocks from the East River. Often he goes even further east, heading across the bridge to parties in Brooklyn. “It’s certainly spreading,” he says of danceable ethnic music. “The Bulgarian bar was in vogue for several years. All the hipsters were going there. It never quite became a mainstream phenomena, like it is in Europe. Here it is still relatively underground. There are several places playing it, but it’s not yet on MTV.” Joro Boro arrived in the US in the mid-90s as a university student. He last returned to Bulgaria in 1999, and though he speaks with a strong accent, cooks ethnic dishes, occasionally enjoys a shot of Rakia (a fiery plum liquor), he’s not nostalgic about his former home.

“It was sad for me to try to go back home to find there is no home there,” he says. “People in the States have a Borat image of the East, though they’re not as prejudiced against Eastern Europeans as Western Europeans can be. In Europe, the attitude changes when they hear you are from Bulgaria. We are famous for car mafia, prostitution and drug dealing. In the States, we haven’t been able to establish this kind of image so far, so it’s fine.” He is currently working on producing his own tracks, collaborating with Frank London, a trumpet player from the band The Klezmatics, and other musicians reinventing Eastern folk music. Joro Boro’s Top Five Chalga tracks Like Ladytron’s Mira Aroyo, the Bulgarian-born New York DJ Joro Boro has a soft spot for chalga, the hyper-produced dance tracks that mix Balkan, Turkish, gypsy and pop influences. “It’s one of the main things I play,” Joro Boro says. “It’s like turbo folk, it’s street music, ghetto music. The lyrics are usually very nasty, sleazy, sexual or about money. But the instrumentation can be brilliant. “It was very popular when I was living in Bulgaria, and it still is. But it is looked down on there because it is considered lower class. A lot of Bulgarian immigrants only discover it when they move away.” As Aroyo warns, only about one out of a hundred tracks are listenable. To sort the superb from the shit, Joro Boro has handpicked his five favourite chalga tracks. Those truly keen to listen to a sample of chalga should track these songs down online. Kondio – Haide Stani Maria – Telefoni remix DJ Coco Beat - Boom Boom Orkestar Kozari – Pis Pisano DJ Marty – Bubolechka (Q-Chek remix)

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Put your hands up for Kiev

Kroke is one of the most innovative and groundbreaking music groups to come out of Eastern Europe. They are a Klezmer band but they mix elements of Balkan, Folk, Classical, Indian and Oriental and their compositions are inescapably hypnotic and dance-trance inducing. In their short career they have won countless international awards and collaborated with the likes of Peter Gabriel, Nigel Kennedy, Steven Spielberg and David Lynch. The group was formed 15 years ago in the then-abandoned Kazimierz, the former Jewish District in the southeast of Krakow, Poland. “Kroke”, is actually the Yiddish word for a citizen of Krakow. Kroke is: Jerzy Bawol (accordion), Tomasz Kukurba (viola) and Tomasz Lato (double bass). B EAST caught up with Jerzy Bawol to find out what it means for Kroke to be east.

Why Detroit’s Jimmy Edgar loves this city Text: Joel Alas — Images: Karlina Vitolina

It wasn’t long ago that Detroit techno was dominating dance floors across the world. Now Detroit has deferred to the east. After waking up to the inspiration offered in the capitals of the east, at least one Detroit DJ has left the motor city to explore Kiev, Prague and Riga. Jimmy Edgar is a music producer who dabbles in fashion photography, and both his images and his sound carry a similar flavour. They are subtle and sexy, not entirely original but with plenty of room to develop. His music is minimal techno with plenty of kitschy sounds. We recommended that he hunt down an old Unost – a Soviet synthesizer – to ad cheesy blips and bleeps to his dark and deep rhythmic landscape. We know Kiev rocks, but tell us why it rocks for you… I love Kiev because its an old city and a modern city at the same time. You can’t explain why you like a place sometimes, like why I love my hometown Detroit and I find it so inspiring. Kiev is one of those places. There is so much energy and emotion in this place, it invokes cinematic experiences and new feelings inside my head, the core of inspiration. One day I want to make a movie here. Do Americans realize how developed and thriving cities like Kiev and Prague are today? Americans have no idea. My father still thinks there is a war going on in Bosnia. A few people I know have shuddered at the thought of me performing or producing in Prague. Its unfortunate really, but its easy to see how the media can manipulate people into thinking these things, its almost not their fault. Really only musician friends of mine who travel know how great Prague is. Tell us about how you spent your time in Prague. Where did you hang out? What are your favourite parts of the city? Luckily I have great friends in Prague in the film industry and the fashion industry. We did our own parties and I hosted a small club night for a couple weeks. In Prague people love all kinds of music. I was really impressed by how many good job opportunities there are for people wanting to move there. I fell in love with the artists coming out of Prague as well, some really influential paintings. You’re a fashion photographer, so you must have been amazed by the beauties of the east… Definitely, I love fashion models from the east - such a beautiful mood and look. I typically request Russian or Ukrainian models for my shoots.

Tell me about the connection of Kazimierz to the sound of Kroke… Kazimierz was everything for us. We started to play here and now if you walk around and see what’s going on, it’s difficult to imagine that there was nothing here. No bars or restaurants, just one gallery, Ariel. And I remember when we started to play here in winter 1992; the place was like a ghost town. Darkness, snow – beautiful; a very spiritual place. No buildings, no people, no life, just the history. Nothing like the artificial painted history that you see now – just a great pureness. So was all this abandoned and run down space in Kazimierz part of the inspiration for Kroke’s music then? Absolutely. A genuine one because their was no financial benefit for us to play here. I was broke and I could have made more money in Western Europe but I chose to stay here to develop Kroke’s sound and continue path we started.

Describe your sound without using any of the following words: Dark, sexy, melodic, kitsch, astral, entropic. Go: I think of my work as creating an environment with each song. Whether its with sound, lyrics, or both. I see color and visuals when I make music, thats how I determine what it is and its how I find the inspiration to take it further. I don’t really like to describe my music in general, but I do love talking about what each song is to me and how it was created. And finally, here’s a pop quiz to test your knowledge of Soviet trivia (no cheating with Google, now). Who or what were the following: Juri Gagarin I’ll be honest, I don’t know much about this guy. But, I do remember an excellent painting I saw in Moscow of this man. It was explained by a friend of mine. She said it was not appropriate for display so she kept it in a secret room. He had a huge grin on his face and I got the feeling that there was something more to it, since he had some kind of strange silver suit on. I meant to do research on him, but I never got around to it. Perestroika I love this game! Its like Froggy but Russian. I have a soft spot for old school computer games. Moskvitch You got me! I do not know this one. USSR (expand the acronym in full words) Union of Soviet Socialist Republics... I guarantee most Americans would not know that. Gorky Park Oh I’ve seen pictures of Gorky Park, but I haven’t been there. It’s an amusement park. Young Pioneers Again, I don’t know much about the Young Pioneers. Yet, I am familiar with the emblem. I am really into vintage Russian/Communist design, it is so powerful. I know it was some kind of organization in the USSR.

hypnotic klezmer from east krakow Text: thymn chase — Images: kroke

A lot of the most artistically innovative and fashionable sections of a lot of cities in Europe are located in the east side of each city. Kazimierz is in the east side of Krakow; do you think there is any significance to this? Well we should ask King Kazimierz why he settled the Jews here. Maybe he could answer some questions, but this was a long time ago. I know why Kazimierz in those days but why in the east I don’t know. Kazimierz was forgotten for some time, for a very long time, for too long. And it was pretty much condemned to die in a natural way. You know, Germans couldn’t break it and then later the kind of people that settled here that had no money, that couldn’t renovate the buildings they couldn’t do nothing. And then after some time it was discovered that we have a pearl in Europe. And it is, the history of Kazimierz is amazing. And you know it was Spielberg that flashed this place, he showed this place to the world (much of Spielberg’s Schindler’s List was filmed in and around Kazimierz). What’s with the hats? Is it just a nod to Klezmer tradition or is there more to it? I really don’t remember how it happened that we ended up with hats. Of course, I could find some reasons, but what was the real one. For sure it was related to the Klezmer tradition – to be different and to show people that we are not just group of musicians but a music group. Has Kroke ever had any of your music remixed? Well yeah we have heard some things that people have done. And a lot of what we played with Peter Gabriel he ended up remixing in different ways. But we are very open to new influences, as we have always expanded our sound to include new influences. Vodka, Beer, or Wine? Well, we definitely started out on the vodka pretty strong but now that we are older and a bit more boring [ha] we are all heavy wine drinkers!

Score: 1 & ½ out of 6

Straight Up from Barcelona’s Sonar:

Ninja Tune’s Daedelus Interview by Jevgenijs Kocetkovs and Aivars Aprikis — Photo: Aivars Aprikis

A distinguished name from the West Coast’s hotbed of sounds and extravagance, Daedelus has lived through IDM fever and broken beats and given birth to his own inimitable style, in which vulgar pop culture and the most erudite sounds come together to build truly great songs. His tracks are a symphony of eccentricities, avant-pop, psychedelia, and electronic surrealism that have captivated heavyweight labels like Mush, Plug Research, Hefty, Tigerbeat6, Eastern Developments and Ninja Tune. B EAST caught up with him during Barcelona’s Sonar Music Festival in June. You are on Ninja Tune, how did you get there? I don’t know how exactly I got here but it’s one of those things where I’ve been releasing records for a long time with many different labels like Research, Mush, I had a one little thing on Warp, a little thing here and there, right?! And then over time, I began to work with some people that Ninja Tune started to work with. This guy Carlos Nino from Los Angeles and then there were some other connections there as well and suddenly I’m doing work with them. It’s great to be there? Yeah! Amazing history, right? Coldcut, Amon Tobin, DJ Food. You know, all these people? Incredible! DJ Vadim! All these people that I used to look up to! And now being part of that scene, it’s still kinda surreal. Do you ever feel nostalgic for the 90s? Yes and no. The 90s to me were an incredible music period, it was also the period of time when there was a lot of scaredness in the record industry because the early 90s were about the pop music and then the pop music suddenly went away and there was grunge and these other sounds. So you have a period in time in rock industry and in music industry in general where they were just trying a whole bunch of things. It was experimentation, yet people were still selling records so it was kinda an amazing period. And then of course, the late 90s were about pop again. All experiments of music dissapeared and pop became king again. And I feel like the cycle is once again gone through. We’ve gone through the whole pop period and now we’re finally getting to some grits. Some grimeness again. And it’s exciting.

How do you deal with jet lag? I’ve tried so many different things – long baths, sleeping, not sleeping, aspirin, coffee, no coffee, fruit juice, sugar, energy drinks. I’ve tried everything. Nothing works. You just have to get through. You have to focus, try to warm, try to stay awake and then you get through. Do you drink vodka? I’m not much of an alcohol drinker. To be honest, when I should have been stealing beer from my father as a young experimentation as a kid, me and my friends got into other things. In the neighbourhood we lived in, there were other substances available so a lot of my friends never did the alcohol thing. So none of us really drinks and it is really strange. Going on to shows and everyone’s partying and wants to share a vodka drink and I rarely rarely do cos I’m just not good at it. When was the last you partied all night long? Not too long ago. Recently, actually. Since as a profession, I go out and play shows, I don’t party so hard. To be honest, you go out to your gig, you play your gig and you’re full of adrenaline and you’re tired and you’re awake and it’s a mix of emotions so you don’t want to party. And you know you’ve got a show the next day so you can’t use up that energy. It’s only so much. But not too long ago, I had a show in New York, I flew in 8pm at night and my return flight was at 7am and I knew I wasn’t gonna sleep so I just hit the party hard, you know! www.daedelusdarling.com www.myspace.com/daedelusdarling

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leaving the east Slow death in an East Berlin apartment Text: Can Oral, AKA Khan of Finland Images: Ian Ritterskamp

“All these people moving in and out all the time. In my time, we moved in once and moved out in a box!”

It was four years ago that I moved into the almost-mystical Frankfurter Allee in Berlin’s Friedrichshain. In Berlin, that is east as east can get. The infamous Stalinist buildings became my home. My house is a mix of old ladies, some surviving husbands, and new Berliners who just moved here in their American Apparel headto-toe. One of my neighbours is Frau Fritsche (pictured left), who lives one flight down on the fifth floor. She receives my packages in case I’m not home, so I see her once in a while. She’s 75, and looks like a hunchback. As soon as the door opens she starts yelling at me about the world. She’s somewhat bitter, which, I would say, is more than understandable, after getting fucked by the Nazis, the Communists and now the Angie government. She has nothing. She can’t even afford a phone. When I asked her what she would do in case she needed to call family, friends, or simply for help, she answered in her rough tone: “All dead.” Another time I saw her getting back into the elevator after picking up her mail, which is mainly advertising (as you know, there are no more friends or family to send letters). Again, she was yelling: “All these people are moving in and out all the time. In my time, we moved in once and moved out in a box!” I thought – ‘Damn right Frau Fritsche, and what a nice way to begin the day.’ Now that I know her a little, I try to talk to her whenever I see Hunchback just so she gets the chance to talk to a human being once a month. I don’t even take her insults personally anymore. I even touch her when I say goodbye, and wonder when she last had that sensation. I feel this whole East neighbourhod is somewhat polluted by this suspicious loneliness. Stasi after-birth. I mean, try to get “hello and good morning” or a smile picking up bread at the local bakery after waking up hung-over. Good luck! The East is mute and has no manners whatsoever. They call it ‘Beliner Schnauze’ – Berlin Mouth – and they are proud of it. I want service and give a fuck about the realness of people when going to the supermarket. I’m moving west to Neukölln. Mainly Turkish neighbourhood. They chat, smile, and even give you something extra, and – believe it or not – say goodbye without exhausting themselves. The next time I visit Frankfurter Allee, the name on Frau Fritsche’s door will have changed, and some British or Swedish dude will have moved in, super-excited about living in the East in its full realness. May 23 2008 www.khanoffinland.com

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W e em vi Te ba s it xt an ss Ir d im aq ag y es :J in ’s oe lA su ab las bu a n rb d o an n Be ed rl in

Once inside there was no mistake – we were standing on sovereign Iraqi soil.

iraq

The moustachioed face on the cover of the book is unmistakable – but what is a portrait of Saddam Hussein doing on the dirty floor of a derelict building in the quiet suburbs of Berlin? We were led to a ‘60s-era brick building by some neighbourhood youths on bicycles. “It’s the old Iraqi embassy,” they told us, though at first we thought they were playing a prank. Why would a diplomatic mission be abandoned then left to deteriorate, the windows smashed, the gardens reclaimed by nature? Once inside there was no mistake – we were standing on sovereign Iraqi soil. The floor was covered with smashed glass and the charred remnants of a fire. Some of patches of the floor sagged, making us question the structural integrity of the three-floor building. The corpse of a fox lay rotting on the matted carpet. Yet there amongst the debris were shelves heavy with folders and books – diplomatic records simply left behind for the squatters to read when the embassy was vacated. We flicked through folios of banking statements of the Botschaft der Republik Irak, awed at the huge numbers in the balance column, whatever currency they represented. Antiquated office equipment remained in place, ready for the diplomats to return. Black-and-white tourist brochures invited us to visit sunny Baghdad. In one pile of books was a whole pictorial magazine devoted to images of Saddam from the days when the CIA was giving him weapons, not firing them at him. This building, hidden away in a quiet cul-de-sac off a quiet street in Berlin’s north, is caught in a timewarp. It was gifted in perpetuity by the German Democratic Republic to Saddam’s Republic of Iraq – two countries which technically don’t exist any more. Hence the confusing legal status surrounding this property. Iraq deserted the building post-re-unification, preferring to work from their more comfortable West Berlin embassy. Then America began dropping bombs back home, and Iraq had more pressing concerns than what to do with its former East German headquarters. Perhaps it’s time for the people to reclaim the building, Berlin-style. Our Canadian buddy Kevin plans to throw a party here called “The Green Zone”. B EAST will be there to lend a hand, if and when it happens.

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Xanax

Excessive, high-octane Moscow of the 90s is to blame for my addiction to sedatives, from Xanax to Valium to Zopiclon and others that soothe a mind jangled by over-stimulation and the stresses of the Russian beast. In those wild-east days, when our coterie of madcap friends popped uppers and downers most days to fuel our buzz, satisfying the craving was as easy as popping into the local drugstore. Xanax, Imovane, Viagra, various antidepressants, and other ‘strong’ drugs were available over the counter, without a pesky prescription or any other paperwork. Russia was still in chaos after the Soviet collapse and the trauma of ‘shock therapy’ economic reforms, and obtaining drugs was more about having the money to buy them than having the necessary permissions.

When I returned to Moscow this spring to spend a month, I blithely assumed that I’d be able to replenish my dwindling supply of Xanax when the occasion arose just as I had done in the past. So when I walked into a drugstore and was told that I needed a special prescription for obtaining the drug, I just shrugged and walked down the street into another apteka, as the Russians call them. Surely, I had just had bad luck in coming across an anal clerk! However, when every single pharmacist came back with the same reply, I realised I had a problem on my hands. Normally, I might have dismissed the issue and resigned myself to trying to fall asleep without the heavenly blue oblongs that turn your blanket into a nest of feathers and the thunder of the traffic outside into a rhapsody in the forest. But this was Moscow and my nerves were already slightly on edge adjusting to the unending pace of the petrobeast. After spending almost five years in Prague and Tallinn, cities that are so small they seem almost unreal – tiny urban strongholds against the forests that surround them – Moscow is like being dipped in a slice of hell. It’s changed a lot since the late 90s, and is lot cleaner, richer, happier and cooler, but the menace of the old Russia is still there, in the growls of shopkeepers, the cold interrogatory stares of the policemen everywhere, and the lowlife that prowl the metros and the edges of its main streets. I wasn’t sure I’d survive a panic attack without my purple guardian angels, nor whether I’d be able to sleep in my friend’s flat facing Kutuzovsky Prospekt, which rumbled and roared even at 3 am sometimes, especially in the days leading up to the Champions League Final in Moscow.

The ON Klinik has a David Lynch feel about it: It’s located bang opposite Moscow’s famous Svetnoi Bulvar circus – and glazed druggies on various prescription anti-pyschotic roam its white-scrubbed corridors. So I decided to sort the problem out and get a prescription immediately. My first step was to walk into a medical center near my flat, a cute, tidy place with sexy nurses (Moscow most likley has more flirty, attractive women than anywhere else in the world!) and a gray-haired doctor near the counter who seemed friendly enough. “Sure, sure, I can help,” he said, herding me into his office. When I mentioned Xanax though, his eyes went wide. “It’s a very serious drug,” he declared, “affecting the central nervous system. Only a psychiatrist can prescribe this.” I was shocked. “A psychiatrist! But in Germany, or Czech Republic, a GP can do the same.” “Maybe,” he said, unmoved. “But in Russia, it is not allowed. We could get into serious trouble.” Smiling apologetically, he unrolled a film negative from a cannister on his desk and handed it to me. “It’s from Berlin,” he said proudly. “I was a military doctor there in the 70s.” Sure, enough, there were pictures of a much younger version of him, posing with a pram before the Reichstag, and the Unter Den Linden.

“My daughter,” he explained. “She was born in Berlin but has never been back since.” While I maneuvered to get him to sign a prescription for me, he praised the city and reminisced about his time there. Clearly, it had been the highlight of his career, his near decade in East Berlin. After that, he was sent to Tadjikistan, and then only made it back to Moscow after the collapse. “The West wants to make us weak,” he declaimed, warming to his theme. “They want to split Russia up and divide it into various states, so it doesn’t have power anymore. Siberia, Urals, Moscow, Volga region, all separate states. But we won’t allow that. Not at all!” Having heard the ‘other’ narrative of the Cold War for so long, it was trippy to have it turned on its head, and imagine life in those days from his perspective. But I still wanted my prescription. Finally, he relented, and called a colleague of his, who then suggested a place called the ON Klinik. “Go there,” he said, writing the address down. “They can write you a prescription.” The ON Klinik has a David Lynch feel about it: It’s located bang opposite Moscow’s famous Svetnoi Bulvar circus – and glazed druggies on various prescription anti-pyschotic roam its white-scrubbed corridors. One of them scans the floor numbers nervously as the elevator to its 4th floor offices ascends and grabs his chest with his hand in panic when the door doesn’t open for a brief second. The first bank of nurses are rude to the point of insolence. It’s 6pm on a Saturday and the last thing they want to deal with is a sweaty, moody foreigner talking very fast. I hadn’t slept well the night before, and Moscow’s Molotov cocktail of late late nights, too much vodka, and the stress of hyper-humanity everywhere, was taking its toll. “Come tomorrow,” they barked, but then a receptionist further down – much too pretty to be working a psycho-clinic on a beautiful Saturday in spring,--waved me over with her long-nailed hands. Sweetly, she listened to my pleas, and began calling various doctors, checking whether any of them might be able to write the ‘magic’ prescription. Between calls, she smiled up at me, her cleavage showing through her tight black shirt, and the ‘LOVE’ letters on her bling belt just visible under. Suddenly obsessed and heed over heels in lust for this angel, a dark redhead who bore more than a passing resemblance to Laura Harring from Mulholland Drive, I managed to engage her in conversation. “I was living in Prague, and here for a month,” I blurted out. “Really? It’s a beautiful city. Lots of my friends have been there and loved it.” I was sweating on the forehad, which sometimes happens on a bad hangover, and she was still fliriting right back, drumming her nails seductively on the table as she spoke on the phone. Finally, giving me a look of great sympathy, she announced that the doctor wouldn’t be available till Tuesday. “Will you be allright until then?” she asked, her lips literally pouting. I took the plunge and asked for her phone number, which she readily gave, and set up a date for the next night. When I walked back on the street, my head was spinning with feronomes. I still hadn’t gotten my fix, but I was about to have a date with a super hot babe. This drug hunt was having some positive side-effects at least.

The date was, unfortunately, a disaster: She brought her friend along and was less sure of herself and more serious outside the wacky confines of the clinic. We sat in an overlit, pricey French restaurant and sipped tepid yet expensive white wines, and she seemed disappointed when I mentioned I was 38, and not 28 as she had naively assumed. Plus, I wasn’t quite on form, still suffering from sleep deprivation. Holding down two jobs, while studying as a psychologist, life wasn’t easy for provincial Natalya, who lived in a dormitory on the edges of Moscow. Only 20, she said she had been married, and seemed to be still recovering from her youthful misadventure. I did meet the pyschiatrist on Tuesday finally, who prescribed me the Russian equivalent, Alprozolam, after a lengthy interview in which I claimed to suffer from panic attacks and agreed to visit a ‘sleep clinic’ when I was back in Europe. I paid a 1,000 roubles (EUR 30) for the consultation and felt victorious as I walked out with the prescription. I had done it all on my own, without calling

“Do you have a pass to the Presidential drugstore on Smolenska?” she asked breezily. “The Presidential drugstore! Why? I don’t have any direct links to the Kremlin.” “It’s the only one that carries Alprozolam,” she said. So, now we know why Putin always looks so relaxed, I thought. Great. Well, what about me. up favors from friends or panicking. Now I could pick up the sedatives and crash out for 16 hours before the big football game the next day, the Champions League finals between Chelsea and Man United, when Moscow – and my friend’s flat where I was staying – would be invaded by Brits. It was a perfect plan. But, like all perfect plans, there was one small problem. Mosow drugstores don’t stock Xanax. Quite strange given that the city is easily among the most stressful in the world! apteka girl after girl shrugged her shoulders when shown the prescription and said, “We haven’t carried this in over two years.” In a panic, I called the doctor on her mobile who finally picked up after five attempts and admitted when I outlined the problem that the drug was “too cheap” for most drugstores. “It’s not worth stocking it because it’s not an expensive drug. They barely break even on sales,” she shouted over the phone. When pressed, she advised I call a central number for drugstores which kept track of prescription drug deliveries and would know which drugstore carried it. I was skeptical but called the number and was immediately put through to an operator who didn’t seem the least bit surprised by my request.

“Do you have a pass to the Presidential drugstore on Smolenska?” she asked breezily. “The Presidential drugstore! Why? I don’t any direct links to the Kremlin.” “It’s the only one that carries Alprozolam,” she said. So, now we know why Putin always looks so relaxed, I thought. Great. Well, what about me. “There must be another place,” I persisted. “Wait,” she said, and, then came back on the line minutes later to say that there was indeed another apteka, but it was at the end of the red metro line. “Would that be ok?” “Go quickly,” she said, “or it might be gone.” It was the day of the football final and the city’s mayor had dispatched over 5,000 OMON riot police across the city, who stood around security trucks and watched the escalators hawk-like for potential troublemakers. Big, tattooed Man United fans rode the metros, quiet as mouses and disoriented by the unfamiliar growl and intensity of Moscow. Cop cars were on almost every major street corner, the majority looking sharp for the occasion, with a leather pouch carrying a map of Moscow (for tourists) slung dandily over their shoulders. I had forgotten to carry my passport and was terrified that I’d be stopped and detained or have to deal with the cops while in a fragile state of mind. Finally, I did make it to the drugstore, and found that there was a line stretching out the door. All the Xanax junkies of Moscow had presumably made the same phone call as I did, and were standing there, eyes glassy, sweaty and fidgety, their prescriptions folded over and over in their nervous hands. After almost an hour of waiting, I got to the counter, and presto! was handed my prescription. 50 pills of 1 mg Alprozolam for only 180 roubles (EUR 5). It was a great deal in what is not a city friendly to bargain hunters. I went home, changed, watched the game in an Irish Sports Bar with some Russian Man United fans, who were proud of standing apart from the Chelsea crowd, and then went right back home and crashed out for 16 hours as I had hoped. The next afternoon, my friend said that he had been at the Chelsea after-party organised by Abramovich at Club Opera and dragged two models back to his flat. That made me so depressed and frustrated that I popped another and went back to sleep. When I woke up and went out to meet some friends for dinner, it was cold and raining and the taxi driver quipped, “The English brought their weather to Russia and then left.” “The English,” he boasted, “were so scared in Russia, they didn’t start any fights. They knew we would beat them up if they dared.” I didn’t care anymore. I had my drug stash and my Moscow adventure was just beginning.

From

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Prague’s East Praha 3,

“Recently, I am planning something quite illegal.”

Sti ll Cern y

Prague’s shock sculptor is fighting to keep his edge despite his success, writes B EAST editor Joel Alas.

Zizkov

“We are sick and tired of living in cold water basements. We now demand well-deserved wealth, villas, cars and swimming pools. We want our art to be sold for millions now, not after we die.” Cerny’s manifesto in 1989. David Cerny is an artist caught in a dilemma. How can Prague’s renegade installationist stay antagonistic when he has become embraced by the very institutions he once protested against? As a poor student living in a cold water flat, Cerny wrote a manifesto calling for artists to be made into millionaires. Now he flies himself around Europe in his own private plane. Younger artists vandalize his installations to make their own statements, in the same way he once painted public objects to deliver his message. His country, once his greatest source of inspiration, is no longer in the state of monumental political flux. Yet he remains the most exciting and intriguing figure on the Czech art scene, with recognition far beyond the national borders. His sculptures display a Kafka-esque wit and irony yet to be dulled by age. He pushes the boundaries, even while working from inside them. Where to for a rebel artist enjoying the mid-life comforts of fame, political stability and constant well-paid work? B EAST contacted Cerny to talk about Zizkov, the bohemian suburb to the east of the Old Town also known as Prague 3. It’s a suburb he had a dramatic influence on, if not through his residence there, then through his artistic installation on the television tower which dominates the skyline. The Zizkov Television Tower’s boxy and modular design, both retro and futuristic at the same time, has been a source of architectural and social debate since its completion in 1992. When

Cerny installed a family of giant crawling babies to the pillars 2001, the tower was reclaimed for the people of the city. The babies parodied the structure while also embracing it as a canvas, and added a degree of Czech irony and surrealism that made the dominating tower seem less ominous. “It really changed the look of the tower,” agrees Cerny, “The babies are not that big, but they changed the way the tower was accepted by the citizens. Many people who really hated the Zizkov tower got used to that Bolshevik symbol. Although, I heard a couple of times that it was beautiful architecture, and that I fucked it up.” The tower is the only part of Zizkov that Cerny has affection for. “I lived there for two or three years in one of the ugly panel houses, although I had a very nice view out of the window. It was a period of my life, and thank God I moved away,” he says. That period of his life was during his emergence as Prague’s most radical and daring young artist. In the late ‘80s Cerny was a member of a dissident group of young artists who pulled public art stunts under the cloak of night that shocked the city at morning’s first light. Their first infamous stunt was to paint a Soviet tank bright pink, an act of artistic liberation against the retreating occupying force – an act that turned Cerny into a national celebrity overnight. Today, at age 41, Cerny certainly isn’t beyond controversy. It was only two years ago that his installation of Saddam Hussein suspended in a tank of jelly (a la Damien Hirst) was banned in

st e Ea m B a st n e r l Lo d t i n n r a hi d o n s ps n fe te r rs to

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is is th

en We were just finishing a joint in the sunshine at a beach bar on the Spree when the kid stumbled over to us and plonked himself into a empty canvas deckchair, pleading for a drag. He looked so sun-drunk and cheerful as he smoked it down to the filter.

“It‘s definitely better to have the city be flooded by tourists than by the Russian army. That’s the price we have to pay for change.” - On Prague’s tourist infestation.

several countries for inexplicable reasons. And only several years since his design of a giant statue of a masturbating man (complete with the occasional ejaculating spurt of water) was rejected as a decoration for the roof of the National Theater. And his sculpture of two men pissing into a fountain shaped like the map of Czech still bemuses tourists. His most recent major work took him back to the U.S., a country where he spent three years at the start of his career after being offered a living allowance and a free work space in New York (he departed upon becoming sick of being introduced as “that Czechoslovakian sculptor” at gallery openings). Instead of New York, Cerny found himself in Charlotte, North Carolina, where a wealthy businessman had commissioned him to decorate an office building. The result was “Metalmorphosis”, a giant silver head rotates on its many strata, spitting water into a pool bellow. How did the North Carolina connection come about? The building owner “has one castle in South Bohemia, and he knows me,” Cerny explained. Currently he is preparing an installation for a festival in Leon, France. When B EAST caught up with Cerny, he had just returned from flying himself to Leon in his own plane. “I bought a plane recently, a Cesna 72. Hopefully it’s not the last one. I was doing hang-gliding when I was 22, 23, and then there was no time so I quit. I always wished to continue. A year ago I decided to start flying again, and I got a full pilot license.”

Friends with castles in South Bohemia? Flying to France? It seems Cerny is finally realizing his dream to have “wealth, villas, cars and swimming pools” - just some of the demands in his manifesto from the late 80s. But Cerny says it was never poverty that inspired him, but “rage”. “That was when we were 18,” he says, laughing off references to his manifesto, “It was before the end of the Bolshevik period. We had 10 krona for five beers. We wished to have our own private islands.” Despite all his international work, Cerny hasn’t forgotten Prague. He is currently sketching out a design to accompany the new National Library, and is also planning more work on Kafka . Does Cerny find it ironic that he is now commissioned to decorate the city, when he once had to install his sculptures illegally at night? He says he found it “bizarre” when government institutions first started approaching him, but as to whether this official embrace has changed his style, he says, “I have no fucking clue.” And there are signs that Cerny is itching to return to his roots. “For a while, I am busy with my legitimate work. But recently, I’m planning something quite illegal,” he says, without giving further clues. The citizens of Prague can only check the squares each morning to see if daylight has brought a fresh surprise courtesy of David Cerny.

“Have you got any more?” he asked when it was finished. He was wearing skinny dark blue jeans and a tight black jacket, his hair thick and messy. “We’ve only got enough for us. We’re too poor share. This is the wrong city to try to scab drugs, man,” my friend answered. “Have you got any cigarettes?” he asked after a pause. “No, we’re looking for cigarettes too.” “I have cigarettes. I’ll give you one each for something to drink. Do you have something to drink?” How was this kid’s nerve? “Jesus, you come to a bar and ask people for everything. Don’t you have any money at all?” “Only cigarettes.” A small pause. “Do you have a mobile phone that plays music? I want to hear music.” “No man, I don’t. I hate those shitty loudspeaker phones. They sound terrible.” “Yeah, me too. But I need to hear something better than this,” he said, nodding dismissively toward the bouncing bass of a reggae tune floating across from the beach bar. The kid called his friend over, another skinny jeans teenager, this one with Cobain hair and a black pleather jacket. I took a notso wild guess. “Are you guys in a band?” I asked. They nodded enthusiastically. “And you’re the singer?” I said, pointing at the blond kid. He nodded. “And you’re the guitarist, right?” The dark-haired kid smiled. “We are the biggest band in the world. We have 80 guitarists. We’re called The Clits. We are the BEST BAND IN HISTORY! That’s another member of our band over there.” I should have guessed. They pointed at a baby-faced curly-haired boy wearing a tight leather jacket over a white t-shirt and black tie. He staggered over to us. They said hello. Peter, John and Steffi, they introduced themselves as. “How old are you guys? Where are you from.” “We are sixteen. We are from Marzahn-Hellersdorf in East Berlin. I HATE EAST BERLIN!” Peter yelled. “You hate it? Why do you hate it?”

“Look at us, we are wearing cheap jeans,” he says, his frustrations succinctly captured by discount fashion. “We were born there and go to school there. All the people out there are the same. They wear their jeans tucked into their shoes. There are many neo-nazis there. We hate it.” “Do you have an escape plan?” “We will move to London and become a famous band. East London. Didn’t we tell you we’re from East London? That’s where we are really from.” John asked me why I’m taking writing down their answers in my scrapbook. I showed them a copy of the magazine. Their eyes lit up. “Beast? Why Beast?” Peter asks. “It’s Be East. Ost Sein, auf Deutch.” “It’s from AC-DC?” John said, pointing at the lightning-bolt S on our masthead, the same one that most prudish Germans freak out about. Not these kids, young enough to see the rock connection instead of the military one. “Not AC-DC, but close. It’s from Kiss. What does your band sound like?” This set them off laughing and fighting amongst themselves in heavily-slanged Berliner German. I never got a straight answer. By now Peter had found himself a loudspeaker mobile phone and was playing The Beatles’ “Come Together”. It faded out and the Stones’ “Satisfaction” kicked in. Peter started singing along loudly, and bounced his head wildly as he signalled for us all to join in. We were willed by his enthusiasm, and soon he was conducting a mini choir on the bank of the Spree, the crowd singing along. It reached a crescendo, then all fell apart during the second verse. Nobody could remember what happens after the “man comes on the radio”. Except for Peter. He kept singing along right to the end of the song. By then John, seemingly the mastermind of the band, was flicking through our FOTO issue. “It’s boring. I’m sorry, for me it’s boring,” he said, and waved it at me. Where did these kids find their audacity? And how many decades late were they born? It’s 2008, and hipster school kids from East London still dream of becoming rock stars in the UK? Is that an outdated rock fantasy, or have the cycles of time and style turned to make it fresh again? The fireball sun had sunk bellow the buildings by now, and it was getting chilly down by the water. The boys from The Clits were still horsing around as we stood to leave and walked away. They didn’t even say goodbye or thank you as we left.

STOP STARING AT MY BOOT.

For more information check out www.MINI.com

MINI CLUBMAN. THE OTHER MINI.

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photo by alexis zavialoff (www.souledehere.com)

belly of the beast

moscow

NIGHT W AT C H Krisha Moscow’s club-of-the-moment for the city’s posh, decadent and capricious crowd. Krisha means roof in Russian, but it also refers to the ‘protection’ under which any wellconnected business runs. Although its ‘cool’ factor has peaked, this 3-floor ‘industrial’ club in a former factory building on the embankment is pretty finger lickin’ good. You enter through a deserted courtyard, which gives you that slight horror-buzz, and then walk up narrow, candelit stairs to the main dance areas. The music’s pretty wicked, Goa trance, Chicago House, Electro, and the glam’s 12 points. The ‘incrowd’ light up their spliffs on the roof terrace. p.s. Unless you know someone, or hack their secret password, your chances of getting in are 0.0001 % Nyets. Pretentious. Over overpriced drinks, like EUR18 for an Evian. Fuck Me I’m Famous kind of attitude. Nazi face control. Nabherezhnaya near Hotel Ukraine. Look out for a long line of fashion victims on the river, near the industrial dock.

Russia is the Beast of Eastern Europe, and Moscow, its hustling, gargantuam, largerthan-life capital is the big Beast. Other cities in the region pale in comparison to the sheer, high voltage charge of this 12-million strong metropolis fuelled on vodka, Siberian oil, oligarch bling-bling and a resurgent Russian nationalism. Plus, its streets and high-octane nightclubs are pullulating with sassy, stylish Russian girls, the favorite belles of the 21st century. The bad news for B EAST readers is that Moscow ain’t the wild, everything-goes city of the 90s. It is a lot more civilized now. The upside is that the city’s gone through a ‘Californication’ in the past few years: It’s cleaner, greener, and airconditioned in summer. And, it’s not just Paris Hilton that the party girls wanna emulate; they’re also into shorts, the higher-gloss bleached-blond look, and aboveground swimming pools in restaurants. Slacker alert! You don’t need Gucci or fistfuls of dollars to pick up these days. Tattoos and attitude are enough. 56

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Gazgolder With its exposed brick walls, red velvet, London-loft edge, and weird location near Paveleksty Vokzal, it’s the place where the golden youth go when they want to get down and dirty, doing rails in the toilets and chatting up the occasional transvestite or outrageous club babe. With no sign, no big neon or doormen, and just a tiny buzzer through which they let the ones they like enter, the club creates an intimate atmosphere of naughties decadence. Nizhnyi Susalnyi per. 5 (near Paveletsky Vokzal)

Propaganda An old skool 90s venue, that plays serious house music and Berlin electro, Propaganda always attracted the city’s best looking bohemians, that mix of gays, hip students, media types and sophisticated clubbers that could belong in Amsterdam or Berlin. Thursday nights are our favorites, but ‘Nu Rave’ Fridays seem to have a cult following among good-looking trend hunters. Don’t ask us why? Candy neckglaces and blinking baby pacifiers were kinda trippy only on ecstasy. And, even then, just … Bolshoi Zlatoustinsky per. 7

Simachev Bar Finally, a cool bar in Moscow, a city that despises anything small and tinny. Bars! It’s just not a Moscow thing. Unless, that is you create a design bar, as Dennis Simachev—a fashion designer known for his cult of Putin T-shirts and backed by Chelsea owner Roman Abramovich—has done. On first sight, its 70s retro look coupled with a ‘toilet’ humor and theme (think dry sinks on the tables, and a photoshopped picture behind the bar of Bush being cheered by world leaders including Bin Laden) works. After the first visit though, it came across as much too contrived, as were most of its desperate-to-be-cool clientele. Still, the food is healthy and very moderately priced, and so are the drinks. The DJs rock! And, it’s open all night. One of Nina Kraviz’s favorite spots. 12 Stoleshnikov Per. Open 24/7. Simachev shop upstairs.

(just off Maroseika)

Fabrique Its not on the top-tier of Moscow clubs, but for some reason, Fabrique attracts a foreigner-friendly crowd (quite rare in today’s Moscow) and has a ‘flower power’ door policy in comparison to the Nazis that man the elitny clubs. Two levels, an outdoor terrace, and a rammed dance floor pumping Detroit Techno or hard house gives it a fun-house feeling. Our Shanghai editor was buzzed by a girl after he refused to buy her a red bull vodka cocktail, but still loves the place. Kosmodamianskaya Nab. 2

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Hungry Duck This Moscow institution of teenage debauchery, ladies nights and naked US marines doing the macarena on the

horseshoe bar is still going despite many changes in ownership over the years. It’s just as sleazy, beery, sweaty and horny as ever, with provincial Lolitas with bad teeth lolling out sexual favors to anyone—no matter how old or potbellied—who can splurge for a 150R Heineken on tap. Pushechnaya ul. 9 (next to Kuznetsky Most Metro) Simachev Bar

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GOUR M AND Bon Restaurant With both Ralph Laurent and J Lo opening flagships boutiques in Moscow, the city’s gone mainstream glam these days. Hey, it’s even got its own Philippe Starcke restaurant (bet you the hotel’s opening within two years!). It’s quite gothic and surreal with candlesticks, stained-glass windows and diamond-encrusted stuffed owls, lit by Kalashnikov lamps. Think Black Dahlia meets Rich Russia. Yakimanskaya Embankment 4/4.

Russian version of ‘Sex and the City’ and prefer beer or wine over vodka. Lubyanka)

Two locations. #1: Sadovaya Bolshaya

Discreet Charm of the Bourgeouise Anyone who names a restaurant after a Bunuel classic, must have enough taste to stay away from opening yet another cookie-cutter, Wallpaper*inspired restaurant that have popped up all over Moscow. Serving reasonably-priced pan-Asian/Italian food, it caters to Moscow’s emerging middle class: the types who watch the

WinZavod

8/1 Malaya Bronnaya Ul.

Moscow is getting cooler each year, and this sprawling, art space in a former brewery behind Kursky train station, is a testament to its ‘global city’ ambitions. Modeled on the same concept as London’s Truman Brewery (only larger) it includes contemporary art galleries, the largest photography studio in Russia, artist’s workshops, record stores, bars and restaurants. Having just opened last year, it’s still got a fresh vibe about it, and a rawness that keeps art wank attitude at bay for now.

(M. Pushkinskaya)

Art-center „Winzavod“

736-9131/32, noon-last guest

4-th Syromyatnicheskiy pereulok, 1.

T: 923-0848, Open 24 hours

Aist A Novikov classic, with an outdoor patio on Moscow’s charming Malaya Bronaya Ulitsa, occupying a threestorey mansion. The second floor has is decorated in grand Czarist Russian style, with candelabras, oil paintings, and the rest. French/Mediteraen cuisine and a fancy wine list. Be prepared to punch a beasty hole in your wallet if you come here on a date!

(whose massive Statue of Peter the Great for Moscow caused widespread protests under the late 90s) has given his grotesque, Social Realistlike sculptures pride of place in its main courtyard. Amassed together though, they make for quite a Heronymous Boschian spectable. The museum has recently added other contemporary artists, including transgressive ones like Oleg Kulik, to its roster. Ulitsa Petrovka 25 , T: (495) 200 6695

str. 6, www.winzavod.com

Anime i Manga The rest of the region needs places like this. A sushi bar with a manga theme, the walls are covered with Japanese cartoons, and the waitresses dress as Japanese schoolgirls!! It’s the Beast version of heaven: Russian schoolgirls posing as Japanese, with wasabi and eel to boot. 79 Butyrskaya Ul. (M. Dmitrovskaya)

Starlite Diner

ul. 16; #2: Ul Korovy val. 9

(if you make it, that is!)

24 Ul. Bolshaya Lubyanka (M.

210-3549, noon-midnight

An expat favorite, this ‘American’ diner with its jukebokes, red vinyl couches, and waitresses in bobby sox and pleated skirts had its heydey in the late 90s when Gringos were in favor. Things have changed since then, and though the cool crowd turns up its nose, the cheeseburgers, huge milkshakes, nacho plates, yummy omelettes makes former Muscovites like me nostalgic for the days when all this felt like luxury. Prices have rised steeply though, and the service lacks that over-eager American touch ;) Yet, still one of the best places for a weekend brunch.

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Café Pushkin Although overpriced and overdecorated, this place is the ultimate Moscow experience with its fin-desiecle atmosphere that oozes Czarist excess, its clientele of Russia’s movers and shakers, and mouth-watering Russian delicacies, like blinis with black caviar. You pay dearly for the experience, but certainly worth the occasional splurge. Tverskoi bulvar 26A, T: 229-5590

Tiflis No trip to Russia’s capital is complete without a dinner at a Georgian restaurant, with its stewed chicken and lamb dishes with unpronouncable names. Although Georgian wines are ‘technically’ banned in Russia due to the bad blood between the reformist government and Mr. Putin, the staff can always find you a wonderful white. With its outdoor terrace, excellent service and wonderful appetizers, including fried eggplant and green beans, Tiflis is said to be the best Caucasian restaurant in Moscow.

KGB Museum This is Moscow’s most gruesome museum, bragging about the fearsome feats of the infamous Soviet secret service. Aside from the usual James Bond assortment of blow-up pens, cigars, listening devices and other toys that the master spys used for their espionage, there are even interrogation videos of Baltic partisons, and a ‘loving’ homage to all the former KGB chiefs, including our very own Vladimir Putin. Make sure you don’t come here on a hangover—or you might throw up. Visits are by appointment only. 12 Ulitsa Bolshaya Lubyanskaya Metro: Kitai-gorod, Moscow T: +7 (495) 926 5566 to arrange tours

Museum of Modern Art As Moscow plays catch-up with the rest of the world, it was only a matter before it was inspired to open a Modern Art Museum. Unfortunately, the city, which is still under the spell of kitschy Georgian artist Zurab Tseretelli

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Ostozhenka 32, T: 290-2897

belly of the beast

Prague With every emerging East European destination still branded the ‘New Prague’ by hackneyed bloggers and beer-goggling Stags, what has become of the once-celebrated expat nirvana. Well, here is the B EAST update: Prague is turning into the ‘New Amsterdam’ with its chilled stance towards soft drugs (Czechs smoke more dope than any other European nation), growing porn industry, Hollywood film shoots, and cosmopolitan vibes. Given that the Czechs, unlike the Poles or Russkies, aren’t drama queens! the nightlife doesn’t quite rock in the manner of Warsaw or Riga, but it has a nice, laid-back, slacker vibe that is a respite from the high-energy economic churn of the rest of Eastern Europe. And, yes, despite all the tourism, it is still one of the cheapest cities in the region.

NIGHT W AT C H Zero

Dandy Andy, the painfully hip English owner, holds a small but friendly bar – with a red VIP room for the Colombian groupies – that has been rocking in recent months as Czech hipsters tune in to its indie-rock vibes and carefree expat decadence. Live DJs from Wednesday through Sat.

Nebe

This narrow DJ club is often spoken of in a love/hate manner by Prague‘s English-speaking community, but, sooner or later, everyone ends up back in its unpretentious, comforting cellars. Almost certain to be packed on weekdays, Nebe is fast becoming the burgeoning hot bed for Prague‘s growing indie-rock scene.

backroom for dopeheads, stylish bookshelves, work by local artists and a retro vibe, the bar’s already a B EAST watering hole in the sodden Zizkov neighborhood in East Prague. Owner Glen Emery, formerly from Jo’s Bar, is a longtime friend, who’s upcoming book ‘Prague: The Left Skank of the 90s’ captures the madcap days of yesteryear.

Křemensova 10, Prague 2, 19:00-5:00

Borijovojova 86. Prague 3.

Dušni 10. Prague 1

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Mecca Duplex

Once reviled as a cheesy mega-club on the city’s main square, the bi-level space has burst back onto the scene since changing ownership in the spring. Making an effort to be seen as progressive, it hosts an impressive line-up of DJs, magazine launches, fashion parties and other events. Campy thursday nights, with mad-cap DJs Uwe and Lucky Lucasso – who dress up in pirate gear and look like extras from Lawrence of Arabia – are still our favorites though.

Prague’s smacky house club, oh so exciting in the late 90s when electronic music first made inroads into pub culture, now feels dated, and could use a makeover. Still, it packs in the babes and the players – and even rival gangs of Isreali and Palestinian drug dealers – on its kraziest nights. Free Wednesdays, when girls get a cocktail on the house, are the best nights, especially during the summertime, when the in-crowd flees the city on weekends.

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Cross Club

F elix da H o u secat at cl u b M ecca

After Sigourney Weaver creamed H.R. Giger’s famous monster Alien, her spaceship crashed into Prague’s industrial-yet-hip area Holesovice. This club, packed from Friday to Sunday, offers real free techno aesthetics without tracking you in the mud somewhere in a forgotten part of Bohemia. Wires, used computer motherboards, rotating chipsets, the best sound in Prague and drinks for reasonable prices. Local and foreign DJs play fine tunes and the crowd varies from alternative to more serious types. But expect a queue on Friday night to warm you up before kicking the dancefloor.

Ping-pong championships at dawn, toilets with collapsable mirrors and a cool smorgasbord of Prague’s party animals: What more could you expect from an after-hours haunt? This three-story, underground club is a meeting spot for the city’s hard-core partiers who ‚just don‘t want to go home yet. All types and classes – Armenian transvestites, Ukrainian glamor girls, Czech porn stars and coke-snorting Yanks – mix on its couches in various states of repose and inebriation. Our favorite Prague club, Le Clan (apart from Studio) is a lone outpost of Boogie Nights-style hedonism in the increasingly bourgeous Czech capital. Balbinova 23, Prague 2.

Fashion show at private club La Scene

It seems Prague likes multifunctional places and La Fabrika is new addition to the scene. Sensitively-renovated functionalist interiors, rich theatrical program, concerts or events such as the Control premiere after-party. www.lafabrika.cz

T: 420 222 721 731 www.cafepavlac.cz

This long-standing, much-loved Vinorhady cafe is all about vegetarianism, without the bland preachiness that often goes along with a meatless menu. Rib-sticking comfort food is side-by-side with more exotic offerings, all served in a loungey Marakkesh-meetsBaghdad interior. The club downstairs has been picking up lately, with its monthly electro nights and hipster acts—think Dorfmeister, Swayzak, Terry Poison, to name a few. Belehradska 120, Prague 4, 11:00-5:00, T: 420 603181500 www.radostfx.cz

Chez Marcel Sur La Butte

Gourmet but affordable French cuisine served by casual friendly waiters in a cozy 1920‘s Lost Generation clutter. All the pleasures of Paris without the drawback of the French.

When the store opened last fall, there were more than a hundred design and fashion lovers at the door. On cruising through the funny and supertemporal interior, visitors could see feminine boudoir on one hand, and a butchers’ corner on the other side where the trousers hung from hooks… all surrounded by stuffed animal heads! This is not mentioning the ‘fresce collection’ section where Czech designers show their latest collections in a set up that reminds us of freshlywashed laundry. Kebab store is the first streetart /design shop of its kind in Prague. It has become so popular that owner Tomas is soon opening another shop elsewhere in the city. Dušní 13, Praha 1

Leeda

Led by two chic designers, Lucy and Lucy, Leeda became one of few Czech-born fashion houses that offers fresh fashion designs. Their fashion shows have also became classics as they are inspired by various themes, most recently “tramping”. The world-renowned architect Jan Kaplicky will contribute to their upcoming collection.

to a hard day’s night—and so is the Zen Spa downstairs. The late breakfasts of browned sausages and fresh fruit are perfect! Hastalska 14, Prague 1 www.maximilianhotel.com

Arcotel Teatrino

Spacious, friendly design hotel in Prague’s bohemian Zizkov neighborhood. Built in a revitalized Art Nouveau building—that was once a theater—the hotel has cosy rooms, a gorgeous fin-desiecle style restaurant serving Czech delicacies and modern European cuisine and an intimate gym in the basement. Rooms are also equipped with Satellite TV, high-speed internet and other amenities. For B EAST fans, what also makes Arcotel special is that it’s located on Prague’s alternative bar street, with buzzing Bukowskis just down the street. Borivojova 53 Prague 3 Tel. +420 221 422-111 E: reservation.teatrino@arcotel.at

www.leeda.cz

Fraktaly

Founded as the only bookstore in Prague offering top quality books of arts and design, Fraktaly quickly became a meeting place for art students, architects and design freaks. Bethlemske Nam 5a. www.fraktaly.cz

SNOOZ E Maximilian Hotel

Swank boutique hotel in downtown Prague that smartly combines contemporary 90s design with Czech Art Deco elements to create an airy atmosphere that’s a bright contrast to the rest of the city. The plush double beds in the rooms are the perfect antidote

haštalská 12, Prague 1, T: 420 222315676

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Open: 18:00-forever

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Kubista

www.crossclub.cz

La Fabrika

Víta Nejedlého 23, Prague 3

Radost

Open 10 pm-till late

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New, modern yet cozy café, just under one of Prague’s most popular cultural spaces, Akropolis, run by young Czech photographer Milan Jaros, Cafe Pavlac serves delicious and innovative dishes, and has a friendly atmosphere! Think dogs, dreadlocks and waitresses that’ll join you for a spliff outside. With an art gallery in the backyard, presenting new talents, Pavlac has quickly become a haunt for Prague’s scenesters and art hedonists.

U Pruhonu 3. www.mecca.cz

Vaclavske Namesti 21

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Kebab Store

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Bukowski’s

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Shabby-chic bar inspired by everyone’s favorite barfly poet already has a following among Prague’s boho expats and Czech girls into White Russian cocktails and wayward conversations. With a cosy

Located at the bottom floor of the Cubist Museum, this small boutique will turn you on to the hundred-year-old design trend and have you hating circles and spending money before you can say Picasso. House of the Black Madonna,

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Ovocný trh 19, www.kubista.cz

talkie talkie

belly of the beast

kazimi erz Kazimierz is a district in Krakow’s east side and is an area of extreme contrasts – it only is what it is now, because of what it was once before. Kazimierz was the largest center of Jewish culture in all of Central Europe and was home to Krakow’s Jewish community for over 500 years. Many prominent Jewish musicians, writers, philosophers and rabbis lived in Kazimierz. After WWII, Kazimierz was all but abandoned and forgotten until Steven Spielberg showed it to the world in his moving portrayal of the Krakow Ghetto in Schindler’s List (1993). Over the past decade the area has undergone somewhat of a cultural renaissance and is now, hands down, the beating heart of Krakow’s heady nightlife. Tens of bars, restaurants, clubs, cafes and galleries have opened up, and even more are on their way. One of the allures of Kazimierz is that many of the establishments have chosen to leave the buildings and interiors as they were when they took them over – without bothering to even add a coat of paint sometimes. Although the history is somewhat tragic, it happened and it is truly something to experience a place for what it really is then to pretend it is something it’s not. Every July Kazimierz hosts an annual Jewish Culture Festival that celebrates traditional and modern Jewish culture through concerts, films, workshops and exhibitions. This is the biggest festival of Jewish Culture in all of Europe. There is a lot going on these days, so here is B EAST’s Belly of the Beast for Kazimierz.

NIGHT W AT C H Alchemia

Alchemia is one of the first places that opened up a decade ago when Kazimierz was still only a bunch of dilapidated tenements and forgotten synagogues. It has a rich cultural events program and is world renowned for its encapsulating and ethereal climate. Alchemia can be an enchanting café to catch a coffee during the day or an absolutely mental bar to imbibe Poland’s more potent potions in at night. Whether you choose the day or night, Alchemia is perpetually filled with a fog of cigarette smoke (sorry non-smokers!) that seems to intermingle between spirits of the past and the spirits in your glass. While simmering in the preserved rooms and crowded corridors of the upstairs bar you can expect to hear modern jazz music, Tango Piazzola, Motion Trio, Cracow Klezmer Band, Tom Waits, Tiger Lillies and cabaret songs of the 60’s. Downstairs in the cellar-cumtheatre, there is a regular program of avant-garde jazz, yass, avant-pop, Jewish music and modern rock concerts. www.alchemia.com.pl ul. Estery 5

Singer

Alchemia’s devilish little brother is the craziest bar in Kazimierz and the place that most people in the know end up if they are truly out on a bender. It opened up around the same time as Alchemia and immediately the riff-raff and bohemians alike came flocking to its doors. The style has a radiant decadence and a broken elegance that immediately gets under your skin like a musty perfume. The ancient Singer sewing machines that double as tables, and prewar portraits staring out at you from the original crimson wallpaper further enhances the vibe of the place. They usually play a mix of 1930’s –50’s Jazz Swing and Pop as well as Balkan, Klezmer and other Central and Eastern European Muzikalia. But don’t be fooled by the lack of DJs, lasers and flash—this dance floor is one of the hottest in Kaz and will get you properly sorted. Estery 20

Tytus I Koka

This used to be one of the few clubs in this city that supported live music and club music equally. They opened with a bang in 2006 and for about a year and a half they hosted some of the more innovative and exciting events in the whole city. Unfortunately however, the original owners (yes actually

one Mr. Tytus and one Ms. Koka) sold out to a couple of suits in 2007. Needless to say, the new owners haven’t been as cutting edge as their precursors, but they still manage to throw great parties and employ some of the best DJ’s in town. Upstairs the atmosphere is extremely chic with a modern interior made warm by red walls, sexy red leather couches and candlelit tables. The downstairs is a cavernous, yet intimate maze of exposed brick with a plethora of plush nooks, and a separate bar and huge dance floor. The “chill-out room” is an ideal hangout if you’re really stoned and enjoy ambient techno and/ or falling into black holes. The upstairs kitchen also manages to cook up some great food. It ain’t what it used to be but it still beats a lot of the other cookie-cutter night clubs in Kazimierz. Jozefa 25

Miejsce – Bar, Gallery, Club

This is a rare bar that started out as a furniture salon. Well, actually, the owners own one of the hippest design shops in the city and they specialize in refurbished furniture from the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s (coincidentally also called Miejsce). After designing several other clubs they figured it was time to open their own. So Miejsce (bar) opened its doors in 2007 and as you might imagine is sleekly designed from top to bottom. It quickly became one of the rallying points for Kazimierz’s young and thriving art scene and scenesters alike. They often host launch parties and photo exhibitions and despite being quite small, Miejsce is almost always packed in the evenings and jammed on the weekends. This is truly ‘the place’ for you if you dig fab furnishings, good music, and a relaxed but creatively exuberant atmosphere. Make sure you check out the Miejsce boutique cross town as well. Retro upholstery = Love. www.miejsce.com.pl Estery 2

B-Side

That it’s the only indie-rock bar in Krakow, is besides the point. More importantly, it is the best indie-rock bar in Krakow! Hosting some of the best local, national and international indierock, electro and alternative outfits, this place goes where no other Kazimierz joint before it dared to go and as a result it has already achieved cult status on the underground (literally) Polish live and Electro party circuit. The décor is grungy, nu-ravey, alternative highlighted

by a cave like basement and a sleek ground level bar with a plasma screen rocking MTV2 24/7. The drinks are good and cheap, the concerts are packed and rowdy and the dance parties rarely stop before the breaka dawn. www.myspace.com/bsideclubkrakow Estery 6

GOUR M AND Avocado – Restaurant

This is one of Kazimierz’s newer restaurants, at least of the “sit-down” variety, and they have brought a little haute and some refreshing creativity to the area’s young culinary scene. Their appealing aps, refreshing soups and huge salads are successfully convincing a lot of the streetfood happy tourists and lazy locals roaming the area to change their ways. They have a huge outside terrace and an expansive inside dining room that is quite elegant in its classical minimalism. The rather diverse and wholly international menu also offers hearty meat, fish and poultry main courses that are intricate in their flavor, composition and presentation.. http://www.restoavocado.pl/ Bozego Ciala 1

U Vincenta

This small pierogi restaurant best exemplifies the spirit of trendsetting Kazimierz – preserving tradition through entrepreneurial innovation. The concept is quite simple; they serve a variety of handmade pirogies (8-12 savory, 3-5 sweet) with a choice of numerous toppings and sauces. This seems straightforward enough but it is downright revolutionary compared to the ironclad 4-filling offer of most other pierogi restaurants in Poland. They are only dumplings after all – why not make them taste damn good! The atmosphere is casual but a bit cramped, offering space for only about ten people at a time. Thankfully, they recently opened a second less-claustrophobic location just around the corner. As the name vaguely suggests, both locations sport brightly colored Van Gogh in Arles themes. Any time of year this is a great place for a cheap, quick and satisfying meal. If you are on the run they also offer take out!

main exhibition is a collection of stunning photographs and moving texts about various Jewish landmarks, buildings, cemeteries in Kazimierz and the greater Krakowian Province of Malapolska (formerly referred to as Galicja). The combination of the museum’s modern and spacious design and the artful elegance of the photography allows one to process the exhibition, and the tragic histories it presents, in a completely relaxed and even aesthetically stimulating environment. Beside the main exhibition Galicia constantly hosts visiting exhibitions, installations, visiting galleries, and concerts. They also have a full service café bar as well as one of the most comprehensive Jewish book and music shops in all of Poland. www.galiciajewishmuseum.org

Lokator

This bar/café/music venue/ art gallery/kinotek/library/ publishing house/photo studio/beer garden complex is the other rallying point for Kazimierz’s thriving art scene. As you might imagine this place is a world in and of itself and most of the happenings are conducted by a loyal network of bohemians, literati, artists and vagabonds. But don’t worry, they also play nice with strangers and are very open to new ideas and propositions, especially if you buy a lot of alcohol and get really REALLY drunk. There is so much going on in this place that they even have their own monthly magazine to keep you up to date with the haps (serious respect to them for calling it ‘Anteater’). Low-cat or Locateher. www.lokator.pointblue.com.pl Krakowska 27

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M ORNING AFT E R Galicja – Museum/Gallery

Although this is more of a museum than a gallery, Galicja turns the idea of what a museum can and should be, completely on its head. The

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melts. Prices are reasonable and the atmosphere is quite chilled. You could easily spend an afternoon here doing pretty much nothing, and not be bothered.

Essential

Riga, the Scandic Moscow on the Baltic, has a sexy ring about it, a whiff of long-legged Latvian girls, slick oil traders, and northern sensuality. Outsiders often say ‘Riga’ with a certain emphasis, a pause that accentuates its appeal to adventurers and romantics alike. Fortunately, today’s Riga, buzzing with festivals of all stripes, raffish nightclubs, Art Nouveau buildings and stylish residents, doesn’t disappoint. Slower to develop than Tallinn, the city only seems to have found its own stride in the last three years, as the economy boomed from EU accession and a more confident generation came of age. Blessed, or cursed (depending on your point of view) with excellent flight connections, the city has turned into one of Eastern Europe’s hotspots, a Prague or Krakow of the North. Too hot, some might say, as the gaudy strip bars, sizeable ‘working girl’ scene, and trashy meatmarket discos are turning it into the ‘Bangkok’ of the North. Summertime is certainly a chance to see a particular expat mating frenzy at its peak! so go in the fall when the locals come back from holidays, and the testosterone levels are back to normal.

This bi-level hi-tech glam club seems to be another mainstream dance space on the surface, but start exploring the rooms behind the 2nd floor bar after a few drinks, and it turns into a more intimate space. Some Rigans even refer to the particular room in the club they hang out in at the club when talking of going out on the town. Packed with smacky babes, most of them freshlytarted college girls, it’s best on Thursday nights, when our man, DJ Ai-va spins drummy hip-hop, mixing Lady Miss Sovereign’s ‘Love Me or Hate Me’ with Prodigy. Nyets. Too mainstream on the weekends. Thuggish feel about the place that can be Godfather charming, but also scary. Boo. www.essential.lv

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Pulkvedim Neviens Neraksta Literally translated as ‘Nobody Writes the Colonel’ this underground-ish club is a Riga institution, and a beacon for the alternative scene since the mid 90s. The dark, industrialstyle interior seems passe now, but the place can still rock! Especially Wednesdays, when it packs up with students and the DJs spin indie classics. Downstairs bar with its ‘love’ sofas and intimate dance floor tends to get wilder though. Peldu 26/28. Open daily except for Sundays

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Photos by Ania Gabo and Pelmeshkin

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Roxy Talk about dive bars! This is a dive club: sleazy, sweaty, weird and yet friendly. Popular among very young and drunk Russians, with a Gorbachev room blasting Russian pop, and toughs in heavy jackets and shaved heads, this Wild East club recalls Riga in the early 90s, before the mall and fashion invasion. Still, your best bet for finding that ‘special someone’ late, late at night after all the other places have shut down. Nyets. Prowling pros who might slip you a mickey later.

Pulkveza Brieza 2. Open 8 am – midnight

Meta Kafé Riga’s dilapidated central tennis court clubhouse has been revived as the chic Meta Kafé. The interior is minimalist with a black-and-white chessboard theme, while the kitchen offers a tight menu of breads, salads and soups. The small space fills up on weekends, with DJs and bands playing dub, afro-beat, hip-hop and pop. The crowd are savvy artistic types, a spillover from the nearby Andrejsala district.

Kabuki Chain of sleek, minimalist Japanese restaurants in Riga that are on the vanguard of the city’s sushi craze. One of their restaurants even has a conveyor belt from which you can grab platters. The choice of sushi is not as varied as in Moscow but the quality is reasonable, and some of the noodle soups are excellent. So is the tempura.

Open 10-22 Mon-Thurs, 10-05 Fri-Sat. www.metakafe.lv

This place is a carbon copy of Fidel’s bar in St Petersburg… but then again, there’s only so much you can do with a Cuban theme. You know what you’re gonna get before you enter - average-priced cocktails, Mexican beer, sexy bar staff, the top end of the boho crowd and the bottom end of the glam set. That said, it’s one of the better bars in the Old Town to chill in. Nyets: A little overpriced. The theme is a bit dated. Jauniela 15 Open 12-02 weekdays, 12-04 Fri & Sat.

Goija Teahouse We’re not sure what’s better – Goija’s enormous tea menu, or its exotic opium den atmosphere. This cosy low-lit hideaway is the perfect spot to chill after a day of architecture tourism in the Art Nouveau district. Inspect your tea leaves under a magnifying glass before selecting, then relax in a couch and play board games while it brews. Strēlnieku 1a

buildings are all the rage, Riga’s collection of sensual, turnof-the-century architecture is little known outside the Baltics. That’s partly because most were in complete disrepair until recently, and they hadn’t been developed like Barcelona’s, with cafes, rooftop restaurants and boutique hotels. Recently, the area has been spruced up, and some buildings have been converted into hotels and academic faculties like the Riga Law School, so it is well worth a walk around. p.s. Some of the houses were built by Mikhail Eisenstein, father of director Sergei Eisenstein. Around Elizabetes, Alberta and Strelnieku Streets

www.sushi.lv

Galerija Istaba

Kronvalda Blv 2b

--Cuba

Skolas 2, Open: Thurs-Sat

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Filthy toilets, and bad pop music soundtrack.

Dada It’s fun to switch gears while in the somewhat sterile Galerija Centrs in Old Riga, and head into quirky Dada for a meal, with its crooked furniture hanging from the ceiling and wacky Art Nouveau pieces tacked to the wall. The Mongolian Barbecue, where chefs grill your meat in minutes, is excellent though, and so is the service.

Local designers hang their wares at Istaba, a two-level boutique shop/gallery/café. The collection features jewellery, home art, unique souvenirs, local music and clothing. Artists are invited to participate in regular themed exhibitions, which are displayed on the back wall. The upstairs café serves a great late. Kr.Barona iela 31a Ph. +371 7281141

Audeju 16. T. +371 71043333

Bestsellers Massive yet cosy restaurant in the trendy Albert Hotel, that’s in Riga’s famous Art Nouveau district. It serves a great selection of international food— including an excellent breakfast buffet for just 5Ls---in a stylish, business atmosphere softened somewhat by warm fall tones and fluffy cushions. Dzirnavu 33 (Albert Hotel). T. +371 67 33 17 17

M o r n i n g A f t e r Art Nouveau District While Barcelona’s Art Nouveau

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Open 14-24. Closed Sundays.

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Ai Karamba It’s close to Andrejsala so this American eatery has become a de facto local when the munchies strike. Its walls adorned with American kitsch, this two-floor restaurant serves up filling omelettes (sometimes a bit too squishy!), burgers, crunchy fries and delicious tuna

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wa rsaw There’s two kinds of cities it seems: One where the people on the streets are far more stylish and chic than those in raucous nightclubs and another where the naughty nightclub crowd emerges from the drab flats and musty buildings to light up the raucous nights. We prefer the latter, the Berlins, Moscows and Warsaws over the gemutlich Amsterdams and Pragues. The uglier a city, the edgier its nightlife is a general rule of thumb. Warsaw, 95 percent of which was destroyed by both the Nazis and the Red Army during WWII, makes Moscow seem quaint and pretty. Yet its clubs recall both the heydey of Berlin in the early 90s and the high-octane New Russian extravagance of late 90s Russia. Bright flashy spaces with besuited bankers jostling with uber-babes compete with divey industrial venues where speedy Poles coming down from meth sprawl on the floor in underground bunkers. And, unlike the more passive Czechs, Poles are crazy, smart, and almost too friendly: Just being a foreigner is still a passport into their Slavic souls. Photos by Mikolaj Komar (www.myspace.com/komarseye)

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Miedzy Nami Artists, filmamakers, models, writers, actors. Best Warsaw lunch, drinks and exhibitions place ever!!! Ul Bracka

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Egoist Young and beutifull girls (80%) and Lacoste boys (20%). Our favorite night club. t: (22) 8298765, ul. Gałczyńskiego 4

We started our Friday night here with sashimi and spicy Thai soup washed down by tropical mojitos, heaters keeping the outer canvas-covered dining area warm. Slick and trendy Moscow-like scene with molls dancing on the bar to mainstream club hits, and men in suits lighting up Cohibas as the night progresses. Door policy so snotty that a six foot tall model sitting near us couldn’t get her friends inside! That was our first real insight into Warsaw: Like Russia, the babe factor is so high that beauty isn’t sufficient to get past the door. Ul Pilsudskiego 1. Opposite the

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National Opera., T: (48) 22 3237600

Enklawa Highheeled horny girls from outside Warsaw… Best if You want to meet new dates… Lots of them… www.enklawa.com/ ul. Mazowiecka 12

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Melodia Elegant, good food, soul, jazz, moody music club and restaurant. The only Warsaw venue with sun roof… Perfect for starting the evening. Nowy Swiat 3

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Utopia Shiny, high-energy gay club with pink walls, leather couches, high-backed sofas in the chill-out room; and butch Polish hairdressers and flirty gay boys grooving to YMCA. Plenty of girls come here for the cheesy, funny disco music and metrosexual vibes. Strict face control. Speak in iour best London English and make sure you come in your Pumas. Ulice Jasna 1. T: (48) 22 827 15 40. Open till 5 am on weekends

Vinyl The newest addition to Warsaw’s vibrant club scene is a basement below an Amsterdam-style eatery (all bright colors and tiny chairs) that heaves on weekends for no reason other than the music. Felix da Housecat flew down for the opening night and since then it has built a reputation for hosting progressive DJs and bands (small thanks to Jem from Amoeba Productions) and creating that rare meeting point between the boho and glamor crowds. Uppity Cinammon goers and sweaty Clubo Kawiarna students have found a common space they can fight out over on the dance floors. ul. urawia 22. T: (48 22) 438 92 99 www.onoff.org.pl

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Klubokawiarnia Every city gotta’s have one club like this for when you’re just off your head and want to go all the way: Second-hand furniture, whorehouse lighting, unisex toilets, speedy Poles & smart opinionated clubbing. Our Aussie financier had his Danish train driver hat ripped off his head by a trashy ‘Little Vera’ from the outskirts of Warsaw. Later he sucked face with a screenwriter chick that was soaked in beer. This is not a place for Slavic virgins or teetotalers; stop over when you’re in the mood for some extreme sport. ul. Czackiego (first gate from ul. Swietokrzyska).

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Piekarnia This granddaddy of Warsaw’s clubbing scene now feels dated with its early 90s Love Parade techno beats, Tresor-

style spray-painted walls and cheap aluminum chairs. Shunned by the cool crowd, it can be a welcome escape from the strict face control and snobbishness of the trendier venues. Still has the heft to fly in big-name Djs like Berlin’s Westbam and Frankfurt’s Sven Voth. Ul . Mlocinsk a 11 T: (48) 22 6364979. Open till 6 am on weekends.

GOUR M AND Kwai A modernist pan-Asian eatery with a retro bar downstairs (Bar Below) and sassy waitresses, this Thai/Korean restaurant is where the city’s real estate movers and glamour crowd fill up on spring rolls, spicy Thai curries and steamed dumplings before heading out into the city. The large, airy restaurant with its windows looking onto the city’s main artery seems to feed on the bustle and energy of the city outside. Ask for their house special – the Bridge Over the River Kwai ul. Marszałkowska 64. T: (4822) 621 21 81 Open daily: 12-24 www.kwai.pl

Sense What is it with Warsaw and slick Asian restaurants? While Prague thrives on its low-budget Chinese and Vietnamese eateries, Poland’s capital has a thirst for dumplings, spicy Asian sauces and bright, minimalist interiors. Perhaps the Polish fondness for ‘dumplings’ might be a clue here. Although not as Wallpaper*-designed as Kwai, its location on Warsaw’s stylish Nowy Swiat, loungey vibes, courtyard out back for summer brunches and cleverly-named dishes (pillows of joy, hurry curry, some like it hot) mark it out as a local favorite. Ul. Nowy Swiat 19. T: (4822) 826 6570

Sekret You’re in Warsaw, with all its skyscrapers, bustling avenues and American-style Coffee Heavens and you’re looking for some old skool Polish atmosphere—a warren of underground chambers and vodka and heavy meat dishes to chase the winter blues away. Go no further than Sekret, an ornate underground culinary paradise offering Baltic herring, roast pork, beef on skillets, stuffed dumplings and more

Wyborowa vodka than even a Russkie could handle. Feed your beast at this restaurant in the Old Town, reasonably priced despite its Romanesque interior and heavy food.

estate broker there who loved B EAST so much he bought ten and sent them to his friends in London!

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ul. Jezuicka 1/3. T: (4822) 635 74 74

Sofia Strip Bar Kulturalna This is truly an amazing space, right inside PkiN, Warsaw’s infamous Palace of Culture: a smoky, divey place where the artsy types spend hours drinking vodka and chewing at dumpling to chase away their inner demons. Although the food is basic Polish, the late 30s jazzy atmosphere, surrealistic paintings on the wall, and the funky crowd lend it a raffish bohemianism. pl. Defilad 1 (PKiN). T: (4822) 656 62 81 www.kulturaina.pl

M ORNING AFT E R Uprising Museum We’ve all heard of the Warsaw uprising, when the Poles rose up against the Germans in the dying days of WWII. ( Unlike the Czechs, who mostly stayed passive and saved their city, as most Poles will point out.) In a former tramway station, this 2000 m2 space is fitting enough for a memorial to such a tragic event in the city’s history. It evokes the horror of that time through soundtracks of Stuka bombers, rattle of machine guns and palpitating heart beats. Quite somber, but worth the trip out there. ul. Przyokopowa 28. T: (4822) 626 95 06 www.1944.pl

Nowy Swiat Lets face it: Most of us Beasts are not very motivated on a day off, with the thought of wandering bleary-eyed through a museum or crowded market not appealing. So, while natives have been spelling out the wonders of the chaotic Russian market for years now, I prefer to sit out on my Sunday afternoons on Nowy Swiat, Warsaw’s most fashionable street, with its cheery, modern cafes (all greens, oranges and blacks), cool mags and bookish-sexy (not an easy thing to find, but plentier in Poland than elsewhere) chicks lolling by the windows, while perusing a tome by someone serious, Stanislaw Lem or John Fowles. Ok, they’re also flipping through Exklusiv or A4 Mags, but we’re fans of both. Once struck up a conversation with a real

This is Central Europe’s raunchiest, funniest, smartest— even most atmospheric in its kitschy Warsaw Pact interior—strip club. Spread out over two large halls in a classic Commie-era glam interior of high ceilings, Doric columns and red velvet, Sofia still has the naughty air of the Cold War. Gorgeous girls strip on two stages, and simultaneously weave through the punters offering lap dances. For just 50 zl (a little over €10) these are some of the best deals in Warsaw. And, unlike at some other dives in the region, Sofia’s babes are fun to be around: smart, sassy, and geniunely friendly. For us though, Sofia brings back memories of wild, generous Nick, who’d play the King during his visits, ordering bottles of Veuve Cliquot and chatting with the girls, most of whom knew him on a first name basis. With Nick, Sofia was our living room, a cosy erotic playground, where we were the champions. The girls fought over trying to impress us with their acrobatic table dances and friendly vibes. Unfortunately, Nick is not with us anymore, having died of a heart attack after a night at Sofia!, but his memory lingers, wafts like sexy perfume through its booths. Pl. Powstancow www.sofia.net.pl

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ta l l i n n Estonia’s capital is tiny by the standards of the region, but it buzzes with the energy of a hip neighbourhood in Berlin or Amsterdam. Although wedged onto a promontory in the Baltic Sea, its got zany Helsinki, ritzy Riga and glamorous St. Petersburg within striking distance. The melange of cultural influences— Scandinavian, Russian, German, Italian, and others—have helped foster an ambitious restaurant culture, seething clubs, and a raffish party crowd jacked up on vodka and their post-independence success. The city has lost some of its mojo since the riots this April against the removal of the Red Army monument though. The stags have also turned against the arrogance of the local belles and moved on to Riga, and other hotspots further East. The scene’s quiter now, more mellow and less vain, so it’s a good time to come knocking again.

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(and their sister lounge in Riga) 100%.

Von Krahl Clubs Bon Bon This upscale, plush club, with ‘Moroccan lounge’ touches, chandeliers, and a huge portrait of Bacchus over the dance floor, is the chosen spot for Estonia’s ‘Winners’ Generation’ of restaurateurs, bankers, advertising execs, and others who made it during the 90s. While the music is a bit Europop, and the vibe sometimes snobby, the glamour girls, cosy lounge in back, and late-night backslapping, can make even a jaded clubber break out in smiles. Nyets. Rich Estonians and leather-faced females take themselves much too seriously. Mere Pst 6 e. Open Wed, Fri, Sat from 11 pm onwards www.bonbon.ee

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Tallinn‘s avant-garde theatre, cafe, and live events central station. This bohemian haunt is usually pumping with the best of Estonia. The laidback crowd slips through the labyrinth of the Old Town like chemically-induced lab rats on their way to the super-charged cheese, which is Krahl. Home of legendary Mutant Disco, the last Friday of every month. Weekdays, the downstairs bar is usually a locals-only affair, but when the upstairs is open the place is rocking with out of towners. During the daytime the cafe is open and the reasonably-priced food, especially good. A little bit of Estonian goes a long way here, as does a live-and-let-live attitude. Nyets. Not glamorous enough for the B EAST. New boho generation much tamer than their 90s counterparts. Rataskaevu 10/12 www.vonkrahl.ee

Club Prive Once proud of its Nordic minimalism, Tallinn gives way to its sensual side in this intimate club, with its circular sofas, thick rugs, gilded mirrors in the foyer and back bar overlooking Vabaduse Square. Owned by the promoters of the infamous Vibe parties, Prive is always pumping with clubby babes, hip bartenders and progressive DJs. It has hosted Brazil’s DJ Marky, Deep Dish, Ministry of Sound, and other big acts this year. Nyets. Too much detroit house and R&B. Feels more like a commercial house club, than a hip place to hang out in. Harju 6. Open Wed-Sat. www.clubprive.ee

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Club von Uberblingen Bored Tallinn club-goers breathed a sigh of relief when Club von Uberblingen opened late in 2007. It promised two floors of party space, regular live dancers and acrobats, grungy-yet-glamorous decor, and plenty of eye candy. Has it delivered? Hard to say. A few initial parties went off, but it was quickly overrun by trashy suburbanites. We’re not writing it off just yet - there’s still a lot of potential, especially when they’re holding parties themed “Release the Beast”.

Hollywood A mainstay of the mid 90s, this mainstream club still packs in the ice teens on its weekly Wednesday’s ‘Ladies Night’ and occasionally hosts high-profile acts from abroad, and rocking drum ‘n’ bass evenings. (White Stripes played here during their European tour last summer.) Tip. The upstairs VIP room has toilets fit for a Baltic baron, with miniature fountains and backlit fronds. Nyets. So mainstream it hurts! Too many stupid, arrogant teens.

Bars Kaheksa Rather conventional lounge bar that still manages to pack in the city’s beautiful people, who also use it as a VIP entrance to Club Hollywood. The Asian-inspired menu is light, inexpensive and delicious; the smoothies like ’Last Mango in Paris’ are great boosters after a night out. Kaheksa sources their fashion pictures on the wall from B EAST, so we support them

Vana-Posti 8. Open Wed-Sat. www.clubhollywood.ee nnnnn

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witty presence.

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Vana-Posti 8.

Elevant Juuksur Musicians, students and assorted bohemians flock to Juuksur for its retro furniture, funky soundtrack, cheap drinks, cheese sandwiches, and occasional live indie and experimental jazz concerts. The bar staff are notoriously dismissive, but that’s all part of the atmosphere. Try the house speciality - rum with Baikal, a curious Soviet soft drink. M-T: 19-24. F-Sa: 19-02 Vaimu 1 / Pikk 43

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Valli Bar Tallinn’s all slick and trendy these days, but this hole in the wall catty-corner to Club Hollywood is a throwback to oldies-style Finno-Ugric debauchery, with its comatose accordion players, teary alcoholics and chatty old men. Try the Millimallikas, a vodka, tequila & tabasco sauce shot, for just 25 kroons. Catty corner close to Club Hollywood

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Mondays. www.okupatsioon.ee

Parnu Mnt. 28. T: +372 627 2627

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GOUR M AND African Kitchen Great, cosy restaurant on a quiet side street in the Old Town, serving delicious African dishes, with an authentic ethnic interior of African masks, tribal paintings and cane wicker chairs. Outdoor terrace in summer is a perfect hideaway from the usual touristy terraces. Run by the same hipsters who charged the Tallinn scene with CafÈ VS in the late 90s, this place has a mellower, more chilled vibe—and excellent food. Uus 34. T: +372 644-2555

Café VS Once the trendiest haunts of Tallinn of the late 90s, this faux-industrial restaurant is still a favorite B EAST lair, mainly because of its spicy, authentic and inexpensive Indian curries cooked up by the best Punjabi chef in town. And, of course, owner and Goa regular, Daryl’s

With its airy, Eastern-minimalist design, chill-out back room, and comfortable wicker chairs, this restaurant was the first to combine Indian cuisine with lounge chic and has remained a favorite with the in-crowd even after the departure of founding chef Anil for warmer climes. Vene 5, old town. T: +372 631-3132

Troika Russian epicurean glam at its best in this jolly cellar restaurant, its arched ceilings painted over with Russian themes. Waiters in traditional peasant costume know how to pour their vodka, aiming directly for your shot glass with the iced bottle poised high above. Excellent blinis, pelmenis, pork chops, and other Russian staples. Always full, so remember to book a table in advance. Raekoja Plats 15. T: +372 627 6245

M ORNING AFT E R Nu Nordik Cool boutique on Vabaduse Square with ironic Estoniandesigned T-shirts, threads from local fashion designers, designer cutlery, CDs, posters, and more. Vabaduse Valjak 8. www.nunordik.ee

KUMU Art Museum The sensation of last year, Estonia’s modernist and gigantic art museum, jutting out of a cliff in Kadriog Park, showcases the best in local art, while covering modern art trends. Its bold Nordic architectural style has won plaudits across the Baltic. Its sleek cafÈ, with an outdoor terrace, is a great place to watch the country’s art scenesters.

Past and present members of Tallinn-based graphic design firm Mitchel Design recently opened a cozy modern art gallery adjacent to their Old Town headquarters. The gallery features the original “tape art” of head designer Mitchell Shernoff as well as selected works by an ever-changing roster of hot Estonian artists. Drop by to chat with the gallery’s friendly staff, enjoy a glass of wine and start your art collection. Open, as the sign says, “most days” – in true B EAST spirit. Kinga 3, 3rd Floor Tel: 372 644 0092 Email: art@gallery.ee

Re v i v i n g T a l l i n n Kalamaja/Baltijaam Most cities of the world are enriched by the presence of artistic slums – run-down nearcity neighbourhoods full of cheap apartments and colourful characters. They are usually grungy and a bit dangerous, full of drunks, immigrants, homeless folk and petty thieves. But it’s these kinds of suburbs that become the artistic lungs of a city. But somehow Tallinn missed out. And don’t go blaming Soviet times, because Riga ended up with Andrejsala, and Vilnius got Uzupis. Yet all along, Tallinn had a slummy suburb just waiting to be occupied – the wonderful gritty area surrounding the Baltijaam railway station, and the neighbouring suburb of Kalamaja. Better late than never, the young musicians of Tallinn have started to move in. The old rail buildings surrounding Baltijaam are now home to

several rehearsal rooms that are also sometimes used as underground party spaces. The first real café, a friendly little hideaway called Café Boheme, recently opened its doors near the Telliskivi tram stop. We at B EAST tried to help pull the crowd in this direction. We organized a series of parties at Kolm Lovi, a once-despised Russian karaoke bar. With the help of a few local indie bands and DJs, the bar was transformed for our Tuesday night “Cheap Pleasures” parties. We had planned to throw an even bigger bash around the corner at Hades, a former whorehouse-turnedmetal bar, but unfortunately we never got around to it. Hopefully others will follow in our footsteps and complete the job we started. So it’s over to you, creative residents of Tallinn. There are storefronts waiting to be cleaned out and used as cafes and gallery spaces. Footpaths desperate to be terraced with tables and chairs. Sketchy old bars just waiting for a revival. Don’t be scared by the drunks and the criminals, they add flavour to the cultural soup. Embrace this potentially funky neighbourhood before developers destroy it. Let the reinvention of Baltijaam and Kalamaja begin.

Weizenbergi 34, www.kumu.ee

Museum of Occupation Occupied by both the Germans and the Soviets during the War, and subsumed within the Soviet Union until 1991, tiny Estonia has been ridden roughshod for most of its history. This modernist museum, airy and bright, documents the country’s dark past through minimalist displays, photographs and videos. PS. The coffee in their chic cafÈ is excellent.

booty

energy

asshole factor

sounds

talkie talkie

Toompea 8. Open 11-6 every day except

samizdat

DJ-ing in the

DDR Text and photos by Maisie Hitchkock

In the German Democratic Republic, DJs weren’t called DJs. In order to distinguish themselves from their capitalist neighbours in the West, the East Germans invented their own vernacular for certain things. So, in the East, you didn’t eat hamburgers and hot dogs, you ate Grilletta and Ketwurst, and in the GDR, you weren’t a DJ, you were a Schallplattenunterhalter (SPU for short) - a ‘recorded disc entertainer’. And unlike their Western counterparts, SPUs needed a license to DJ in public, which in inevitably bureaucratic Ost-Bloc style, they attained after completing a test, a course, and an exam. Ah, and they wondered why everyone wanted to leave the country!

Certain songs and bands were as off-limits as a daytrip to Düsseldorf, and often for obscure reasons. U.S pervrockers, Kiss, for example were verboten, not because of Gene Sim mons’ tongue ‘gestures,’ (or their terrible songs) but because of the double ‘S’ in their name, which was too evocative of the Nazi sym bol for the staunchly anti-fascist East Germans.

The first challenge for aspiring SPUs was the Aufnahmeprüfung, a test more appropriate for a music conservatory entrance exam than the sweaty world of Diskomachen. “They asked you things like “Name three Baroque composers,” stuff that actually had nothing to do with modern dance music” says Andreas, a former SPU from Cottbus. Candidates who knew their Handel from their Haydn were admitted to a DJ training course, where they gained MC-ing skills and learnt how to build their own gear - essential in the GDR’s ‘economy of scarcity,’ – as well how to give an evening a Marxist-Leninist ‘flava’. Most students ignored the last part however, says DJ Cord from Potsdam, because they “just weren’t interested.” Then came the Einstufungsprüfung, the placement exam, a mock-disco, during which entrants were assessed on their ability to keep an audience ‘entertained’ for up to two hours. The exam commission normally included a DJ, a member

of the ruling Socialist Unity Party or its youth wing, the FDJ, someone from the secret police, the Stasi (presumably in case the DJ was planning on escaping the country inside a speaker), and various cultural officials. Having to simulate a disco in front of them, was, claims Andreas “really strange. There were these old men sitting there, with grim expressions on their faces, and I had to kind of get the party started, and that didn’t really happen.” Those DJs whose mixing skills met with the apparatchiks’ approval were awarded a Staatliche Spielerlaubnis – ‘state performance permit’ and they qualified at particular DJ ‘level’ A, B, or C or for professional DJs, the Sonderstufe. And then it was Chic, Abba, and Wham! all the way, comrade. Except that it wasn’t. This being the Eastern Bloc, the red tape didn’t end with the exam. Once they were let loose on the pubs, hotels, and youth clubs of the GDR, SPUs had to stick to the “60/40” rule, which stipulated that at least 60% of the tunes

In today’s oversubscribed ‘have-a-go‘ DJ world, a bit of quality control, GDR style, might not actually be such a bad thing.

banged out during any one evening had to come from the GDR or the ‘socialist abroad’ – i.e. the Eastern Bloc. The remaining 40% could come from countries with ‘Non-Socialist Economic Systems’ –the West, in non-socialist parlance. Few DJs, however, stuck to the 60/40 rule. If they had done, claims Cord, they “would have never been asked to play again.” Decent GDR tunes were as rare as bananas, and according to DJ Heike from Königs-Wusterhausen, “Young people just didn’t want to hear them.” The state largely turned a blind eye (or ear) to this musical mutiny, says Andreas, because “if they really had been forced to play 60% Eastern Bloc music, young people would have got frustrated, and possibly started getting silly ideas. It was a good way of keeping them quiet.” Despite this, SPUs still got the occasional reminder to go easy on the K-Tel compilations. Cord recalls a grim evening’s DJing at an army casino: “The officers were all in the Party. They had to toe the line, even when they were partying. You could see that they listened to Western pop music in private, but they couldn’t show that they knew the songs. I started the evening off with the ‘Theme from Dallas,’ and the first officer to arrive, came up to me and said ‘If you carry on like this, there are going to be serious consequences for you! Such hassle for such a banal song!” Certain songs and bands were as off-limits as a daytrip to Düsseldorf, and often for obscure reasons. U.S perv-rockers, Kiss, for example were verboten, not because of Gene Simmons’ tongue ‘gestures,’ (or their terrible songs) but because of the double ‘S’ in their name, which was too evocative of the Nazi symbol for the staunchly anti-fascist East Germans. But forbidden or not, actually getting hold of enough tunes to play was another matter. Western records were a rare commodity

in the GDR, which could only be obtained via friends or relatives allowed to travel to the West, or by swapping them. Vinyl was also regarded as too precious to subject to ropey GDR equipment. So, in the 1980s, SPUs DJed with cassettes. The sheer effort involved meant that they normally worked in pairs. One person fast-forwarded and re-winded, listening on headphones to find the next track, whilst the other one kept the audience entertained. It was “hard work,” says Andreas. But where did they get their music? Andreas: “We spent whole nights recording songs off the radio.” Stations like RIAS in the West and DT-64 in the East broadcast uninterrupted tracks specifically for SPUs. But not all SPUs were so lucky. Those living in Saxony-Anhalt, a region known as ‘the valley of the clueless’ because it lay out of the range of Western broadcast signals, were forced to rely on the charity of SPUs from other areas. Heike “We recorded stuff for them in Berlin and sent it to them. It was difficult for them though, because the audience wanted to hear the music straight away.” DJing in the land of real socialism was, as Andreas says diplomatically, “a different kind of occupation” to its Western incarnation, but it had its rewards. Lack of other nightlife options for East Germans meant that discos were invariably full, and DJing could be lucrative – Heike claims to have earnt more DJing part-time, than as a full-time employee of state airline Interflug. Plus most concur that it was a lot of fun. And perhaps the exam wasn’t such a terrible idea. DJ Heike: “If something like that was introduced now, then you’d have fewer people just getting up onstage and playing whatever they want.” Yes, in today’s oversubscribed ‘have a go’ DJ world, a bit of quality control, GDR style, might not actually be such a bad thing.

samizdat

Ikea World

Is Today’s Market Just A Slicker Copy Of The Old East?

When it comes to product homogenization, the West is proving that an open market is just as likely to standardize our buying options as a closed market, writes B EAST editor Joel Alas.

by a small number of monolithic manufacturers. No matter where you buy your shampoo, toothpaste, washing liquid or cleaning products, they are likely to have originated in a factory owned by Unilever, Colgate Palmolive or Procter & Gamble. Nestle is more than just a cereal and chocolate company – it is the world’s largest food producer, making everything from dog food to cosmetics. The extent to which these companies dominate our kitchen pantries is disguised by packaging, branding and faux-variety. But imagine a supermarket where all items were branded with a single emblem representing the parent company. It might start to resemble the monotone aisles of an old Soviet supply store. Market concentration goes a step further when you consider where the majority of Westerns obtain their goods. One of every three British retail pounds is spent in a Tesco store, while in America one in five consumer dollars goes through Walmart’s cash registers. European chains hold a similar fix on their local markets. When it comes to commodity homogenization and a restriction of retail options, capitalism is proving just as effective as Communism ever was. The primary difference is that the West’s market constriction is being invited and embraced by citizens.

EAST OR WEST, DOES IT MATTER? PRE-FA B FL ATS ARE EVERY WHERE The view from my apartment in Kreuzberg, Berlin, is blighted by the existence of monstrous concrete housing projects across the road. “I can’t believe they had such ugly architecture in the GDR,” an international visitor told me once. “Don’t blame the Soviets for that – we’re in old West Berlin,” I explained, “And that was built in the 80s.” Recent arrivals to Berlin often have difficultly understanding which side of the wall they are on, for hideous concrete apartment towers are just as prevalent in the West as the East. It’s hard to tell which side of the wall suffered most from architectural crimes – Kreuzberg, Schöneberg and Charlottenberg today are looking downright dowdy with their proliferation of ‘70s era apartment stacks. While East Berlin was blighted by mass housing projects at Marzhan-Hellersdorf, at least it also has the grand Stalinist avenue of Karl-Marx-Allee to admire. Architecture in the West today is just as bland as its Eastern precursor. In fact, today’s urban design seems to owe a lot to Soviet central planning. Prefabricated slabs of concrete remains the preferred material of use. Boxy, monotonous and anonymous designs continue to sprout like fungi in cities everywhere, even

These com ments sprang to mind when, while inspecting rooms to rent in Berlin, I began to experience a spot of déja-vu. Why did every other bedroom come furnished with the same bed, the same shelves and drawers, and the same paperand-wireframe lamp?

No Izv estia in Pr av da, no Pr av da in Izv estia

“In Soviet times, everybody’s apartment looked the same,” my Eastern friends would tell me, often and ruefully. “There were four kinds of wallpaper to chose from. Everyone had the same couch, the same tea set, the same lamps.” These comments sprang to mind when, while inspecting rooms to rent in Berlin, I began to experience a spot of déja vu. Why did every other bedroom come furnished with the same bed, the same shelves and drawers, and the same paper-and-wireframe lamp? Why were the kitchen utensils in every apartment identical? Turn over a mug or spoon in any modern Western kitchen to discover why. There, imprinted on the bottom, you’re likely to see a manufacturer’s stamp that has become as ubiquitous as the CCCP product mark was during the Soviet era: Ikea.

The proliferation of cheap Swedish furniture illustrates how, despite the promises of free market diversity, capitalism is just as likely to reduce our buying options as Communism was. And identical product stamps on household items are just the beginning of the many parallels between old East and new West. In many spheres – media, industry, politics, architecture – the similarities between then and now force us to question which side truly won the Cold War.

Ho m ogenized Corpor ate Br a nds Consider for a minute not just the Ikea kitchen equipment, but the food being eaten from it. The groceries we buy and the stores we buy them from increasingly resemble a single-source economy. A large proportion of supermarket items are produced

“We had two television channels to chose from,” Easterners would tell me, “And two newspapers, both of them full of the same lies.” Today’s media market masquerades as a smorgasbord of opinion. Cable television networks carry enough channels to give a home television viewer a thumb injury. Newsstands are crowded with newspaper and magazine titles. But these countless information sources are largely all telling us the same thing. A tiny conglomerate of companies owns those thousands of television channels, and our news is fed from an ever-shrinking number of newsrooms. What is most disturbing about giant media companies such as News Corporation, Time Warner, Disney, Viacom and Bertelsmann is that citizens seem indifferent to their mergers and expansions. In Soviet times, people screamed for a more diverse information spectrum. Today the West seems headed effectively for a two channel, two newspaper market, with the implied consent of citizens, through their continued readership and re-election of governments that support weak media regulation. And as to content, few able-minded citizens of either old East and new West believe (or believed) that their news is accurate or unbiased. The politics is spin-doctored, the information skewed, and investigative journalism has been replaced by light-hearted banter. The only difference is in the labelling – Communist media published “propaganda”, today’s Western media disseminates “infotainment”. The end result is the same – a population lulled into complacency. Even the Internet, that supposed open forum of billions of voices, presents a uniform message. Wikipedia is the only source of information for many, even though most users realize its reliability is questionable at best. Online news sites are disappointingly shallow. Thanks to rapid news feeds, once a statement is made online, it echoes across millions of mirror sites and becomes accepted fact before anyone has had a chance to check or refute it, and corrections to online news are nonexistent. One must ask whether our current information and media landscape is truly any more plural, honest or trustworthy than the centrally-controlled propaganda systems of Soviet times.

as the West titters and shakes its head at the mistakes of Soviet designers. Wait ten years until the paint starts to fade and the rendering flakes off, and the ironic similarity between Eastern mass housing projects and Western mass profit projects becomes apparent.

Big Brother, watch m e please! What of politics and civil liberties? Would any well-educated voter in either today or in Communist times truly believe they have any choice or influence through the electoral system? Communism offered one party, while elections in most countries today are contests between two parties with barely a shade of political difference between them. In both systems, the corruption within politics is (or was) understood and accepted as a fact of life. Westerners often pall at Soviet methods of population control through surveillance and policing (although Milan Kundera ironically suggested the secret police should be thanked for so thoroughly documenting the lives of dissident writers and artists). Are the wire-tapping, home-searching, detentionwithout-charge measures introduced in the U.S. during the Bush administration any less draconian than the Stasi? If anything, the West is desperate to be placed under observation. Through social networking websites, we invite anyone (including, according to Facebook’s terms of use, the C.I.A) to scrutinize our photos, our diary entries, and our network of friends. Through Facebook’s disturbing new mobile phone tracking service we allow our associates to monitor our physical movements. We place ourselves under surveillance, and smile into the camera while doing so. George Orwell’s predictions were wrong on two counts: The date was forty years too early; and he assumed the observation of the population would be imposed unwillingly.

Ik ea = No sex From products to politics, today’s West increasingly resembles the old East. At least in Soviet times people had a system to revolt against. Those opposed to mass produced merchandise, media and architecture today must turn to sexual politics to force a change. “I don’t sleep with anyone who has Ikea furniture,” a girl in a bar told me recently. Perhaps that might be enough to start a revolution.

samizdat

Warsaw’s Praga —

The New Prague? The Unfa milia r Wor ld

Warsavians love to hate Praga, the grungy east side suburb which is home to misfits. Yet visitors are drawn to its unorthodox charm. Magdalena Nowak tours Praga to understand its paradoxical place in Warsaw’s psyche.

Nearly every capital of the former Eastern Bloc, from Ljubljana to Budapest, has at least once been labeled “The New Prague”. New Prague meant new Europe, new lifestyle, new money. It meant the old world in the process of transformation, diversion from boring old Barcelona, Paris or London. Even Poland’s capital Warsaw was also once called the New Prague. A city with cool pubs, sophisticated architecture, galleries with crazy modern art, and the special atmosphere people create when they don’t have money, and what they have the spend on socializing. The district which provides Warsaw with all that atmosphere has a familiar name for an unfamiliar world – it’s Praga. Warsaw’s eastern district Praga. The irony is obvious. But the situation is a bit more complicated. For whatever Warsaw’s Praga is, for sure it’s not new. Whatever Warsavians are proud of, it is not Praga. And whatever is desirable in the “New Prague” of other Eastern European cities is controversial in Praga. There has been a hype about this district that can be called unique in Warsaw’s history. Everyone spoke about Praga, photographers went there to take pictures, journalists to interview people, foreigners to sit in its new trendy bars. And yet, Praga got stuck on its way to becoming the New Prague, and it will probably never arrive there. Never, because It has remained the ‘unfamiliar world’ for Warsaw’s residents. So what is it all about? I call Lukasz Laksowski (pictured page 75). He works for MTV Poland, and, he tells me, I’m not the first person he has spoken to about the district. We meet in Praga of course. Lukasz is a bit new Praga with his way of life, his cultural interests, his sharp mind and his willingness to promote what he thinks is worth promoting here. But a few words about the district first. Praga is administratively divided in Praga North, closer to the Vistula River, and Praga South. It can be reached from Warsaw’s city center on foot or by tram across two main bridges. Both Praga North and South are not just rather poor districts with less color and less glamor than others, they are also some of the smallest parts of Warsaw. Ironically, this district is omnipresent in Warsaw’s reality, even if the Warsavian like to deny it. Not just in movies, like the last year’s box

office success “Rezerwat”, about a young Polish photographer who comes to live in the district of Praga to take “different photos”. But also, due to its cultural life and activity, a lot has been published about this district in recent years. The residents of Warsaw, however, like to deny it, and they like to emphasize that they deny it. It’s a bit paradoxical: People love to talk about Praga, they love to ask foreigners if they’ve been there, and they love to say they don’t like going there. And so Praga is suffering from too much attention and too little attention all at the same moment. Poor foreigners who have to listen to these stories. Poor foreigners who go to Praga expecting to see a New Prague or a new artistic potpourri like Berlin’s Kreuzberg. Poor foreigners who go to Praga fearing murderers, thieves and smelly hobos. Poor foreigners who go to Praga to take a look at the ‘under class’ who are said to live an outcast life of alcohol and misery. And poor foreigners who feel sorry for the people living there. Lukasz Laksowski is one of those people. He has been living in Praga since the day he was born. He spent his childhood here, he went to school in the district of North Praga, and he must have sometimes stumbled home slightly drunk when he was still a student at the University of Warsaw. He probably heard all the stories about Praga, about the special atmosphere, the extravagance of the district as well as its ‘dark side’ and difference. “There is no myth about Praga”, says Lukasz, “Forget what people are telling you about it. The hype about the district has artificially been created and will come to an end soon. Praga is not the thing people try to make of it. It is not Kreuzberg. It is not a world of its own.” So it’s not New Prague then. Lukasz surprises me, not for the first time during our meeting. But he makes his point: “Several years ago, artists started to rent huge lofts in Praga, as they paid almost nothing for them.” Then the developers discovered Praga’s potential, invested in the houses and made big plans. “In order to sell their apartments they created this hype about Praga, claiming that it is a new artistic, vivid home for young intellectuals,” he says, “What these developers are really looking for are people who pay

samizdat them a fortune for their renovated places. The investors begin to chase away the artists who can’t afford the increasing rent prices. This is already happening, in fact it even happened. In my opinion, this artificial hype lasted not more than five years and what we see today is already the regression.” Regression? So what are we doing here, on this wonderful Wednesday evening sitting in the Park Praski, one of the oldest parks in Warsaw? The answer is simple and extraordinary at the same time. If you want to know Warsaw, you have to know Praga. It’s a present Praga gives to Warsaw’s tourists. The district was barely destroyed during the Second World War, unlike the whole rest of Warsaw. “What we today see in Praga, gives us an idea of what Warsaw must have looked like before it was systematically demolished in 1944”, Lukasz explains, “it’s a pearl of Warsaw’s ancient architecture, as it preserved its prewar character.” A pearl indeed. Old Warsaw architecture, namely Praga’s old brick stone houses with unique details, provide a different kind of life than the rest of the capital. One can feel Praga has a soul, a spirit and most of all, it has an attitude, a Warsaw attitude purer and more honest than can be found two tram stops away. “Here you can still talk to people who remember the story of their houses and who lived there. That’s incredible!” Lukasz says. The hype about Warsaw’s ‘unknown district’ has indeed brought a bit of glamor to Praga. New posh restaurants like Porto Praga opened their well-decorated cavities for cosmopolitan people who are not afraid to cross the river once in

“I used to take my doubting friends on a private guided tour through Praga to demonstrate that it is not as bad as people try to put it. Each time I did that, something strange happened which never happened to me before.” a while. Streets like 11 Listopada were enriched with clubs, factories transformed into cool locations. But on your way to such fancy places you might just bump into the Russian market near the degenerated stadium, which actually is more of a Vietnamese market. “Nowhere else in Warsaw can you get Vietnamese food as Vietnamese as there,” says Lukasz. And not just that, when you see the market, you probably won’t question that you could get anything here. It smells awkward sometimes. Tourists mingle with hobos at numerous snack bars taking a hot meal or beverage. It take up to ten minutes to get a tea, as the Russian ladies still boil water in a can, but the tea is just great. The Russian/Vietnamese market seems better suited to a third world country than in Poland’s capital, but here it is, and it has defended it existence for a long time now. Praga is special. Whether you like it or not, whether you see its hidden beauty or not, whether you acknowledge its history and the people living its history, you will never return from Warsaw’s other world indifferently.

And speaking about indifference. “Warsaw authorities don’t really care for Praga. They don’t invest the money the district needs so badly,” Lukasz thinks, “They started something like a revitalization of the architecture in 1999, but it solely affected Ząbkowska Street, and it was done lousily.” Of course, the facades of this famous street were painted, but they omitted the details. “So, in ten years when the tint comes off, we’ll have the same we had before, but without the sophisticated ornaments.” Lukasz is more entitled than others to criticize Warsaw’s policy towards the district. Ząbkowska Street is not just the most beautiful and interesting street in Praga North, for him it is his childhood, his youth, his adolescence and his current address. Ząbkowska Street – easily reached by tram – feels a bit like Berlin’s Kreuzberg. Here we can find one of the most extravagant pubs in Warsaw, Opary Absurdu, it’s entrance guarded by a big black spider. On the other side of the street is Lysy Pingwin, a cozy place with good Czech beer. Following Ząbkowska to the end, one will find Fabryka Trzciny, a huge altered factory which hosts galleries, restaurants, and a club for alternative concerts as well as high society meetings. Ząbkowska Street is also home to one of the most fancy places in Warsaw, the Koneser vodka factory. Praga artistic life has found its home there. In the damp of alcohol, visitors can see contemporary art, attend avantgarde theater, or simply enjoy the atmosphere of a world long gone. “I just love this place. It’s an artistic enclave,” says Lukasz. And speaking about transformed factories, far from Ząbkowska Street one can find M25, a factory which is now a incredibly atmospheric club, where those who succeed to find it (it’s well hidden) can dance to electro, then a week later listen to a rock concert, or occasionally enjoy a gay party. Praga’s night life has obviously expanded. But exploring the district by night is like witnessing the story of “Two Moons”, a Polish film depicting the life of young wealth twenty-somethings enjoying themselves in the beautiful city Kazimierz Dolny, while the residents of the town, mostly Jews, endure a hard life. The hype about Praga created one of those moons which shines for young tourists who come to discover New Prague. And so English is the language of Praga by night. The district welcomes those escaping popular clubs like Cinnamon, where money – which, ironically, most of them actually have – is decisive. But the second moon of Praga’s night is there for those who don’t profit from it - the residents. The residents, the residents, the residents. Weird folk. Sometimes it might seem that walking Praga’s streets gives you a free journey back through time, to a world that will be gone in a few years. The tram ride to Praga is charming in a negative way. Soon after the Most Poniatowkiego stop, the people become less fashioned, and you can sometimes smell the alcohol in their skin. The conversations you listen to can ruin your day or enlighten it. Sometimes a hobo sits next to you, sometimes he starts to talk to you, sometimes he starts a fight. In the streets you notice the density of pregnant women and attack dogs, the shorts of young guys are shorter, the shirts of young girls are cut

lower, and their languages is rougher. There is hardly a street corner where you can’t find men drinking, hardly a house court where you can’t find an old man sitting and observing, hardly a lawn where you can’t find children playing football. “Well, I don’t think that people in Praga are so much different from people in Warsaw. The problems you see so allegedly omnipresent in Praga are in fact the problems of a lot of Warsavians outside the very city center.” Lukasz says, and explains his point with a bit of history. Praga North was once a rather wealthy district inhabited by unorthodox Jewish people who were deported during the Second World War. “After the war the buildings were left to degeneration. Then the Communist regime came up with the new policy to offer these unattractive apartments to either people who came from the countryside to live in Warsaw, or to deprived people who could not afford a house anywhere else.” Having parents who lived in Praga North since the end of the war, Lukasz knows all the stories about the residents who installed a fire place in their living rooms or kept chickens in their courtyards. “To be honest, for a long time Warsaw was not a city where intellectuals felt very welcome. Of course, this is changing now with the process of transformation, but that’s the explanation for Praga’s residents.” Architecture also causes people to think that Praga is ruled by an underclass, Lukasz says. “In other areas of Warsaw where we have no yards,. alcoholics or pathological families are just less visible than in Praga, with it’s courtyards and lawns.” Nevertheless he must admit that Praga’s people upset him sometimes, especially when

curious foreigners are around. “I used to take my doubting friends on a private guided tour through Praga to demonstrate that it is not as bad as people try to put it. Each time I did that, something strange happened which never happened to me before. And what I then always heard from them was - ‘You see, I told you’.” We come to the end of our little Praga tour. On our way back, Lukasz and me hit La Playa, a beach bar situated on the bank of the Vistula River. The music is rather electro, the people are more in their 30s than in their 20s, but the view is breathtaking and there lies a kind of magic over this place. I ask Lukasz why I didn’t learn about this beautiful place earlier. “Because it is in Praga”, he says. There is a phenomena that strikes you in this district: The West wants what the East wants to get rid of. Western Europeans are falling in love with Eastern Europe’s surrealism, with the dirt and skunk of everything that survived war and communism. For Eastern eyes it is the past. The European Football Championship, due to be held in Warsaw in 2012, will help to destroy a bit of ‘the East’ in Praga, particularly as the Russian market will be cleared away so the stadium can be rebuilt. Until then, Warsaw’s inhabitants will keep speaking about Praga as the ‘unfamiliar world’, pretending it’s not theirs, emphasizing its difference. Until then Westerners will come to Praga to look for the New Prague. And until then people like Lukasz Laksowski will try to make all of them familiar with what is nothing more than simply a genuine district of Warsaw. Nothing more, but certainly, nothing less.

sexy beast

déjà

in east prague

...life is not monochromatic. It tastes of aureate champagne with a crimson strawberry inside the goblet, and bluish healing bruises...

Fashion design: Lucie Trnková, Lucie Kutálková and special guest Jan Kaplický, Photo: Radeq Brousil 76

Leeda about Leeda “Fusion of Leeda and interesting artists representing design, architecture, graphic design, film, photography and music, creates an environment where our collections emerge. We shift them towards a play with stories and interesting themes while we thoroughly respect their concept. The collection Leeda Dejavu is created in collaboration with architect Jan Kaplický, who designed his own set of clothes under the label Leeda Kaplicky for this special occasion. Jan Kaplický brought a very new and unique kind of energy to our design work.” www.leeda.cz Architect Kaplicky about fashion “It’s a new profession for me. Fashion. Perhaps a little unusual for an architect, although I am not the first one. It’s an amazing opportunity to engage myself in form, colour and detail. It’s a direct work with the curves of the body. That interests me. I hope new stunning, attractive, remarkable and sexy things will be created. The same principles apply in other design fields only the material is different – textile.” www.future-systems.com

sexy beast Gold and black stripe vest. Betsey Johnson. Price upon request. Gold and black stripe high waist shorts. Betsey Johnson. Price upon request. Pearl Crystal Spoke Necklace. Subversive Jewelry. Price: $2,200.00 Tiles and Spokes Bracelet. Subversive Jewelry. Price: $780.00 Red glitter stirrup tights. American apparel.$14.00 Long red leather gloves. LaCrasia.

a n t to D o y o u w t I a m? a k n ow w h

Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m a killer.

liquid

sky Photographer: Eric Hason Stylist: Anna Katsanis Makeup & Hair: Marina Hirano Model: Nana of Red Model Management Stylist assistant: Ilene Hacker Photo assistant: Kentaro Minami 82

You wanted to know

where I’m from? I’m from Connecticut. Mayflower stock.

Silver gloves with fringe. LaCrasia. Yellow cotton faille shorts. Betsey Johnson. Price upon request. Royal blue tights. Beacon’s closet Jop blue and yellow patterned top. Beacon’s closet Metallic boots. Steve Madden.

Liquid Sky is a 1982 science fiction film produced and directed by Russian émigré Slava Tsukerman that has become a cult classic on the midnight movie circuit. The story takes place in the early 1980s New York dance/art scene. Space aliens land to feed off of endorphins released during heroin use. Their hat box-sized spaceship lands on the roof of a loft occupied by bisexual cocaine-addict fashion model Margaret (Anne Carlisle) and her drug-dealer girlfriend Adrian (Paula E. Sheppard). Another fashion model and junkie, Jimmy (also played by Anne Carlisle) is Margaret’s rival and enemy. Margaret has several sexual encounters (some wanted, some not), resulting in the aliens’ discovery that the endorphins released in the human brain during orgasm are more preferable to their needs than heroin. So, the aliens take to feeding on human brains just after they have had sex! The film had a $500,000 budget, which meant that Tsukerman and his wife had to use a renovated Greenwich Village loft as the sound stage. The film is out of print and only a limited number of VHS tape re-issues and DVDs were produced. The film, however, does run occasionally on the Sundance Channel. 85

Marcella bib front tuxedo white dress shirt. Charles Tyrwhitt. www.ctshirts. com. Price: 130.00 Red bowtie. Reminiscence.Price. $3.00 Turquoise pants. Stylist’s own. Rae leather cropped jacket. Pazuki. At Sola showroom. Price available upon request. Silver multi color gloves. LaCrasia.

They would say ‘delicious,

delicious’.

Oh, how boring.

Vintage football maxi Dress. Betsey Johnson. Price upon request Green tights. Beacon’s closet

Black shoes Steve Madden. Toy Sunken Treasure Necklace. Subversive Jewelry. Price: 730.00 Purple leather gloves. LaCrasia.

Photographer Jan Masny (www.janmasny.com) Stylist and Creative Directo Biki J (www.myspace.com/bikijohn) Hair Stylist Naoki Komiya using Bumble & Bumble Makeup artist Jonas Oliver using M.A.C Photographer’s assistant Natalia Zapala Stylist’s assistants Annelie Brottare and Amy Simpson Makeup’s assistant Graziela De Oliveira With Special Thanks to Aida @ Brag Boutique and Red Mutha @ Stables Market, Camden

88 Green t shirt, Lego necklace, visor cap- all by Red Muthawww.redmutha.com +44(1273) 772 639 Zebra print mesh top and pink ‘wolf’ leggings- Brag Boutique- www.bragclothing.com 44(207)613 2736 Multi coloured cycling shorts- Beyond Retro- www. beyondretro.com +44(207)6133 636 Purple acid wash top- American Apparel +44(207) 734 4477 www.americanapparel.net

Citrus nylon jacket- all by American Apparel- www.americanapparel.net +44(207) 734 4477 Animal print black and gold vest- Brag Boutique- www.bragclothing.com +44(207) 613 2736 Torch necklace and white leather belt with diamante- Beyond Retro- www. beyondretro.com +44(207) 6133 636

little Bandit

east london‘s

sexy beast

Denim gilet jacket- Red Mutha- www.redmutha.com +44(1273) 772 639 Gold lame leggings- American Apparel- www.americanapparel.net +44(207) 734 4477 Red and yellow ‘Harlem’ vest- Brag Boutique- www.bragclothing.com +44(207) 613 2736 Multi coloured scarf, ‘flame’ Converse trainers- Beyond Retro- www.beyondretro.com +44(207) 6133 636 90

sexy beast

brooklyn photography: Kristiina Wilson — hair: Elizabeth Morache @ Workgroup NYC using Rusk product — makeup: Cynthia Rose — stylist: Yahaira — stylist’s assistant: Dario Formica — producer: Erin M. — model : Amy Finlayson @ NEXT 92

Boots by Giuseppe Zanoti, jacket by Maison Martin Margiela, pants by Gucci, gloves by LaCrasia, belt Vintage

bâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;klyn Dress by Jolibe, jacket by Helmut Lang, hosiery by Wolford, shoes by Sophia Kokosalaki

east

Coat by Peter Soronen, dress by Benjamin Cho, hood by Michael Angel, tights by DKNY, boots by Giuseppe Zanotti

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Publisher & Editor in chief: Vijai Maheshwari (beastmag@mac.com) Editor: Joel Alas (joel@beastnation.com) Editor-at-Large: Paul Barbera Art Director: Martin Svoboda (funkfu@funkfu.net) Fashion Beastess: Karena Gupton (karena@akhavein.com) Music & Film Editor: Augustus B Yaffle Assistant: Eva Jelinkova Proofreader: Christine Hackett Intern: Rosa Rendl

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