Oishii

OISHII food, design & other interesting things

CUPCAKE TIME vanilla bean cupcakes with raspberry cream frosting

These little cupcakes are the cutest and tasiest treat for spring. Make an extra batch & give them away as gifts in a white carboard box and you will be remembered forever. The key to these is creating a light batter so the cupcakes themselves are light and fluffy, and using the best quality fresh raspberries -never frozen- that you can find.

INGREDIENTS 1 vanilla bean or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 125g unsalted butter, softened 1 cup caster sugar 1 ½ cups self raising flour ¾ cup (185mL) milk 3 eggs

ICING 1 ½ icing sugar mixture 10 raspberries, mashed up 2 tablespoons soft butter * Extra fresh raspberries for topping.

METHOD 1. Preheat oven to 180°C. Place muffin papers in one 12-hole muffin tray.

2. In an electric mixer, beat butter for 2 minutes until pale in colour and creamy. Add sugar one third at a time, beating well between each addition.

Add the eggs one at a time, beating for about a minute between each addition. Add the seeds of the vanilla bean and beat until combined.

3. Sift flour and add half to butter mixture with half the milk, mix until well combined. Repeat with remaining flour and milk.

4. Fill cupcake papers ¾ full and bake cupcakes for 20-25 minutes and small cupcakes for about 15 minutes or until they spring back gently when poked with your little finger.

5. Transfer to wire racks and allow to cool completely. While you are waiting for them to cool, mix the mashed raspberries with the icing sugar in a medium bowl.

6. Add butter and beat with electric mixer til smooth and creamy. If you want the icing to be a brighter pink colour, you can add more raspberries or a drop of pink food colouring.

7. Using the back of a big spoon, spread the icing on top of the cooled cupcakes. The messier the better as it adds the homemade look. Top with as many fresh raspberries as you can afford (at $7.89 a punnet that may not be many) and serve!

african

dinner

CHICKEN CURRY

BANANA & COCONUY

TUMERIC RICE

Ethiopian cuisine is creator of the most flavoursome curries and side dishes you will ever taste. For these dishes, the we chicken curry is loosely based off a chicken meal called ‘Doro Wat’ and the lentils are a side dish inspired by the indian curry Dhal. These are best all served together with green banana rolled in coconut, and tumeric rice. It is also worth making your own Chappati to really complete the feast. Geniet!

SPICED LENTILS 3 cups Brown lentils 2 tbsp Berbere Mix (African spice mix) 1 red onion, diced 2 cloves finely chopped garlic 1 tbsp ghee 1 red chilli chopped finely 1 tsp curry powder 1/2 tsp tumeric 1 tsp cumin Handful of fresh coriander Pinch of salt 1/4 cup sultanas

method 1. Bring lentils and vegetable stock to boil and simmer 10 minutes.

2. Add chilli, onion, garlic, spices, and Berebere mix. Cook covered for another 30 minutes, until most of liquid is absorbed.

3. Pass half the mixture through a food processor to smooth out and then add back to remaining lentils. This adds texture.

4. Mix in sultanas 5. Add the ground black pepper to taste.

Serve with natural yogurt, diced tomato and fresh coriander.

CHICKEN CURRY 1kg Chicken thighs 1 tspGinger 1 tsp Cardamon pods 1 tspCoriander 1 tsp Nutmeg 1/2 tsp Cloves 1 tsp Cinnamon 1/2tsp allspice 1 large onion, diced 4 cloves finely chopped garlic 1 tsp paprika 1 tsp red pepper 1 tsp black pepper 1/2 tsp salt 1 tbsp brown sugar 1 tbsp lemon juice

method 1. Toast all spices together in a dry pan (the ginger, paprika, red pepper, black pepper cardamom, coriander, nutmeg, cloves, cinnamon and allspice) for one to two minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat to let the spices cool.

2. Combine toasted spices, onion, garlic, 1 tablespoon of salt, oil and lemon juice in a food processor or blender and process until mixture is a smooth paste. You can also pound mixture together in a large mortar and pestle.

3. Marinate the chicken thighs in this mix for as long as you have time.

4. Add some oil to the pan. Add onions, fry for a minute then add the chicken with the spice paste. Cook, stirring vigorously, over fairly high heat for about 5 minutes.

5. Add brown sugar and enough water to just cover the chicken. Turn heat down and simmer for one hour til reduced and a thick, strong tasting sauce has developed. If it needs more seasoning add any of the above herbs or a pinch of vegetable stock.

Serve with toasted, flaked almonds.

CHOCOLATE LAVENDER COOKIES.

If you have never tried lavender before, you are in for a little treat. These chewy cookies taste like the floral, lemony and alost spicy aroma of lavender, balanced with chocolate sweetness.

INGREDIENTS 100g butter 75g brown sugar 2 tbsp dried sweet lavender flowers 1 egg 2 tbsp milk 1 tsp vanilla extract 1 cup oatmeal 210g plain flour 3/4 tsp baking powder 160g chocolate chips

METHOD 1. Crush the lavender - you can do this using a morter and pestle, or even a food processer.

2. Blend the butter, sugar and lavender until smooth.

3. Add egg, milk and vanilla.

4. In a second bowl, mix the dry ingredients (oatmeal, flour & baking powder). When combined, add the chocolate chips.

5. Combine the wet and the dry mixes together to form soft dough. If you find it is bit sticky, you can add more flour.

6. Drop by teaspoons onto baking tray lined with paper.

Bake at 170째c for 10 minutes, longer if you like them crispy.

CHEATERS PIES! As humans, and due to circumstances, we find ourselves sometimes falling into one of the below categories: Pressed for time Hungry Allergic to cooking Lazy These darling pies cover all of the above bases and are delicious! Follow these 3 steps and tell me you don’t love me.

1.Take some sheets of frozen pastry (your choice of puff or shortcrust) and line 12 muffin tray holes with it.

2.Run down to your favourite curry shop (Thai or Indian is usually best - I use Butter Chicken) and buy a container of curry to takeaway (no rice please).

3.Fill the puff pastry lined holes with the curry, put a pastry lid on, and throw it in a 200 degree oven til golden.

If you want to get fancy-pants you can brush the lids with egg wash, or put some seeds on top as I have.

VUE REVIEW

I love lunchbox.

A review of Melbournes Cafe Vue. 430 Little Collins St, 03 9691 3899

In June 2006, the indulgent Vue Du Monde welcomed a younger and more informal sibling to Melbourne – Café Vue. Owner and head chef, Shannon Bennet, has more than don’t it again. It is located on Little Collins Street, in between Queen and Elizabeth Streets. The café is quite small and does not take bookings so there may be a bit of a wait during busy times, but speaking from my experience I had no problem.

Upon arriving at Café Vue, I new immediately I wanted the lunchbox, which is basically the Cafés signature version of degustation. This takeaway lunchbox is pitched at those such as business men and women with limited time, but I’d send it out with a parental advisory: the $15 box of tricks is great (last months’s included lamb rillettes, ocean trout on brioche, and rhubarb cheesecake) but it’s going to make parents feel very guilty about sending the kids off with Vegemite on sliced white and a banana. As the formule of the lunchbox components always follows starter, salad, savoury and sweet, the lunchbox menu being served on my particular visit included – - Chicken Sausage Roll - Chickpea & goats cheese salad - Ploughmans roll - Yuzu yo-yos

To begin with, I adored the novelty of separate components served in a single box – which was also beautiful – almost like a contemporary-Australian take on Bento. Choosing what to start with was difficult, and I ended up referring to and following the items listed on the lid of the lunch box.

The Chicken Sausage roll was AMAZING. Flaky puff pastry, roll in toasted sesame and a salty chicken mine inside was definitely the highlight of the box. Although it looked quote miniature, it was deceivingly filling and I enjoyed every bite.

Next was the Chickpea & Goats cheese sald. On paper this sounds like my perfect salad – I adore goats cheese and although I love chickpeas, if a criticism were to be made about any components of the lunch box, it would be the salad. The fennel used in in the salad, combined with a strange green herb (I think it was dill) that I couldn’t quite identify – were overpowering. It only took a couple of forkfulls being I was defeated by the strong flavour, and I moved into the Poughmans roll. This cute little parcel was also lovely – a sweet roll with salty ham and tangy chutney was a really nice balance, twisting a somewhat ‘uncool’ sandwich type into Vue sophistication. The Yuzu yoyos were also a highlight. Yuzu is an asian citrus fruit that has seemed to become popular in western cooking recently, and the yoyos from Vue were no exception – sweet, crumbly and light, fused together with a set yuzu ganache. Overall I loved my lunchbox!

Basically, if you don’t have a sly $600 to blow in one sitting like what is required at Vue Du Monde, yet still yearn to taste the innovative, and still gourmet, creations of Bennets then I highly recommend a trip to Café Vue. Bon Appetit!

coffee review: newcastle.

suspension espresso Location: Beaumont St, Hamilton Price for small coffee: $2 long black, $3 flat white etc.

Chocolate coffee beans: No The Good: Suspension is Hamilton/Islington’s hipster espresso fix, the decor is mismatched furniture and plain walls that often feature local artist’s photography, painting, or illustration.

Amazing, super cheap coffee with no gimmicks. Suspension has also extended their menu from just coffee and tea to some simple meals like toasted sandwiches, cakes and slices.

The Not So Good: Peak coffee times, understandably, result in quite a long wait for coffee to be served. The only reason they lose a point is for the lack of chocolate coated coffee beans!

Score: 9/10

peaberrys espresso bar Location: Alba Road, New Lambton Price for small coffee: $3 long black, $3.50 flat white etc.

Chocolate coffee beans: Yes, their own brand!

The Good: This contemporary espresso bar is their own brand and franchise, and as such service much of Newcastle with their coffee. The New Lambton store I believe takes the most care with their coffee and the service is really friendly.

The Not So Good: It is located in an area where, unless you are a local, is a bit out of the way.

Score: 8/10

Talulahs

Location: Glebe Rd, The Junction (opp. the Junction Hotel) Price for small coffee: $3.50 long black, $4 flat white etc.

Chocolate coffee beans: Yes! The Good: The setting of this cafe is absolutely beautiful. The staff are friendly and the service is fast, the food and coffee is both great. I really loved having a coffee here.

The Not So Good: Slightly more expensive, and they only had white sugar while I prefer raw.

Score: 8/10

III Bean espresso

Location: Beaumont St, up The Exchange end.

Price for small coffee: $3.50 long black, $4 flat white etc.

Chocolate coffee beans: No The Good: This is a contemporary-australian style restaurant that is breezy and light inside. The menu is limited but good quality and kind of fancy. The coffee, I believe, is Peaberry’s but they don’t quite make it as well as it can when drunk from the actual store as the espresso was slightly bitter during my last visit. It is nice to sit and enjoy the atmosphere and the coffee, really, is quite good.

The Not So Good: Slightly more expensive, coffee could have been a bit hotter.

Score: 7/10

Roladoor cafe Location: Beaumont St, next to Hamilton train station.

Price for small coffee: $3 long black, $3.50 flat white etc.

Chocolate coffee beans: Yes! The Good: Roladoor has done really well since opening, due their great coffee and the most extensive mexican-inspired menu I have ever seen, it is 3 pages all double sided, amazing!

Their espresso is always fruity and really hot, love the raw sugar and coffee bean combo also.

The Not So Good: Can get really really busy and crowded inside Score: 8.5/10

One Penny Black Location: Hunter St Mall Price for small coffee: $3.50 long black, $4 flat white etc.

Chocolate coffee beans: No, but they do have a chocolate cabinet full of treats.

The Good: One Penny Black is, in my opinion, Newcastle most exciting new coffee shop and exactly what Hunter St mall needs. The Baristas literally live and breathe coffee and will discuss which beans would be best with your particular drink of choice. There is almost a melbourne-laneway vibe about this place, with a takeaway window and bar to sit on the street. Really, really great coffee.

The Not So Good: It is quite small, so you may not always get a seat in busy times.

Score: 9/10

Other places worth visiting: Sprocket, Corner of King & Watt St, Newcastle Longbench, Darby St Gourmet Goose Deli, Beaumont St. If you have any more local suggestions I would love to hear them - jessicalynburden@gmail.com

colo urfu lcui sine

starter

PURPLE Fried Sweet Potato Balls. This recipe is basically glorifed mashed potato made a bit more intresting by the use of Purple Sweet Potato (can often be found in asian grocers). This crispy snack is great accompanied by your favourite dipping sauce - Sweet chilli or Garlic Aioli work well.

INGREDIENTS 2 purple sweet potatoes 1 egg Tablespoon butter Salt & Pepper 1 cup sesame seeds Oil for frying

METHOD 1. Peel and chop up the potato into chunksa, then steam or boil til soft.

2. Drain away any water then mash, adding the butter, salt and pepper.

3. Add a dash of milk if needed 4. Once mixture has cooled significantly, add the egg and mix very well to a smooth consistency 5. Heat Oil in heavy pan for shallow frying 6. Roll the mash into tablespoon-sized balls, and then roll in sesame seeds 7. Fry these a few at a time and drain on paper towel. Done!

drink

YELLOW Hard Lemonade. Delicious, but for adults only.

INGREDIENTS 120ml Real Lemonade 30ml Honey Vodka 15ml Vanilla Vodka Lemon to garnish 1.

METHOD

Combine the real lemonade and vodkas in a coktail shaker full of ice till 2. freezing cold.

3. Pour into glass Top with lemon to garnish, or a vanilla bean if you prefer!

ORANGE entree The best Pumpin Soup. This is a super simple recipe that isn’t a big deal if it gets mixed up a bit depending on what ingredients you have. For example, you can exchange the nutmeg for cinnamon or omit the cream.

If you have time, it is worth it to make your own pesto and including some pumpkin seeds in with the mix to tie it all together. Serve only smaller portions of this as it is quite rich and filling.

INGREDIENTS 1.5kg butternut pumpkin - peeled, seeded, chopped 1 onion, finely chopped 1 Litre vegetable stock ½ cup cream ¼ tsp ground nutmeg 1 teaspoon chopped garlic Pinch of tumeric Pinch of Chilli Salt & Pepper Olive Oil Pesto to serve

METHOD

1. Heat oven to 180°C and roast the pumpkin peices until tender and caramalising on the edges.

2. Heat oil in saucepan. Add onion & garlic and cook for 2 minutes until browning, add the pumpkin, stock and spices. Cook for 45 minutes to an hour, until aromatic and tasty.

3. Remove from heat, let cool slighty and run through a blender til smooth.

4. Return to pan and add the cream. Stir til heated through, season.

5. Serve with pesto drizzled on top and some toasted pumpkin seeds.

main

MAGENTA Chilli Linguini w Burnt Butter & Sage. This is simple pasta dish that relies on the highest quality ingredients you can afford. If you arent able to find Chilli Pasta, you may use Beetroot Pasta or even a plain linguini and just add more chilli to the sauce. The best marinated cheese to use is a s goats cheese, with thyme and preserved lemon, but you can also use a marinated fetta.

INGREDIENTS 1 red chilli, diced 20g unsalted butter 1 red onion, chopped 1 tablespoon crushed garlic 1 small bunch of resh sage A cup of cherry tomatoes 1 cup crumbled, marinated goats cheese 200g chilli pasta Salt & Pepper Olive oil

METHOD 1. Boil a large pot of water to get ready for the pasta.

2. Melt a small amount of the butter and olive oil in a pan, and once it starts to bubble add the bay leaves to fry and crisp. Drain on paper towel and reserve for later.

3. Add the butter, oil, garlic and chilli to a heavy frypan on a medium heat.

Once it starts to brown, add the onion and cherry tomatoes. Turn up to high heato slightly blister the tomato skin.

4. Throw the pasta in the boiling water. While this cooks, turn the heat off the sauce and add the goats cheese 5. Drain the pasta very well and combine in the pan with the sauce.

6. Serve and top with the crispy bay leaves.

dessert

BLUE Blueberry Crumble. If you are a fan of anything baked then this cute slice should be right up your proverbial alley. Because it is cooked, you may substitute fresh blueberries for frozen or tinned ones, just drain of excess liquid. You may also want to dust with icing sugar just before serving.

INGREDIENTS 1 cup sugar 1/3 cup sugar for blueberries 1 tsp baking powder 3 cups plain flour 1 cup unsalted butter 1 egg 1 tsp. vanilla extract 1/2 tsp salt Zest from one lemon 4 cups blueberries

METHOD 1. Preheat the oven to 190 degrees C. Grease a medium square baking pan.

2. Stir together 1 cup sugar, 3 cups flour, salt, lemon zest, and baking powder. Use a food processor to blend in the butter, egg and vanilla.

Dough should be crumbly. Press half of dough into the prepared pan as a base.

3. In another bowl, stir together the sugar and the blueberries. Sprinkle the blueberry mixture evenly over the crust. Crumble remaining dough over the berry layer.

4. Bake in preheated oven for 45 minutes, or until top is slightly brown.

Cool completely before cutting into squares. Garnish with fresh berries!

GREEN supper For any Japanese enthusiast, green tea is a completely unique flavour that is now being found in many many forms and applications. These sweet, sugary donuts are balanced by the grassy flavour of green tea powder.

Although these are kind of a Not for the light hearted, but an unusual addition to any dinner party and definitely a talking point!

INGREDIENTS 1 Packet vanilla cake or pancake mix.

1 extra egg 1 tablespoon milk 1/2 tablespoon of icing sugar 1 table spoon natural sugar 1 tablspoon of Sencha Green Tea powder Oil for deep frying

METHOD 1. Heat the oil in a deep fat fryer (If you have one, otherwise a heavy pot will suffice if you are cautious) to around 375 degrees.

2. While the oil heats, melt some butter in a seperate saucepan.

3. Follow the guidelines on the cake or pancake mix, then add the extra egg, milk, melted butter and mix to a very smooth consistency.

4. Sift the sugar and green tea powder together and reserve for later.

5. Roll out the dough with a rolling pin until about 1/4 inch thick. Use a cup to cut out round from the dough, then use a shotclass or similar item to punch out the hole from the centre of the circle.

6. Fry the dough balls for 2-3 minutes in the deep fat fryer, or until golden brown.

7. Remove excess oil by draining on paper towels, then roll in the green tea mixture. For presentation, sifting more of the mix on top will look smoother.

Sam & Talulah Life as a student is pretty straight forward. Do a bit of uni work on week days and socialize on weekends. You stay up late, party hard, sleep a lot and usually only brave the day when hunger pains have well and truly set in. So from my perspective the search for a great café boils down to a few small essentials: good coffee, quality yet hearty meals all for an affordable price.

Last Friday was just a typical Friday night, spent with friends, lamenting over the happenings of the previous weeks various endevours whilst enjoying some of Newcastle’s finest watering holes. It was by all accounts a great night. However, come Saturday morning things aren’t so rosy. I will explain to you my dilemma. I am walking through The Junction past the many eateries trying to make the important decision of which place to visit.

In the end it is Talulah Bar and Restaurant that catches my eye. It is bustling with people, I believe this is always a good sign; the words ‘all day breakfast’ coupled with the dynamic duo of my nostrils and stomach confirm this is the place.

As we enter we are warmly greeted by a young waitress who shows us to a table near an open window. The decor is bright and pleasant, instantly I feel like the aftermath of the night before is leaving me. We order coffee and what seems like only an instant of time it arrives at the table. The cappuccino froth is beautifully decorated; the contrast of the white milk and caramel brown coffee served in a dainty cup really gets the senses going. And the taste… excellent! Even though the lunch menu was in full swing, I chose the big breakfast option. We were warned that the kitchen was very busy and there may be a wait. But to our delight, ten minutes later the meals arrived. It hit the spot, a classic mix of mushrooms, poached eggs, tomato, sausage, bacon and Turkish bread.

Simple yet tasty and a cure for even the worst hangover!

So two out of the three requirements have been fulfilled but what about the bill? Change from a twenty dollar note for breakfast and a coffee, I can’t complain. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and would recommend to anyone who asks.

For a pleasant, quality dining experience Talulah Bar and Restaurant is a worth a look.

CHEATERS PAELLA! The traditional recipe for Paella is a Spanish mix of rice, stock, and normally some kind of seafood or chorizo. In this version, measurmeants are used at your discretion, or dictated by what is hiding in your cupboard!

Rice (I use one cup of brown, one cup of Aborio) Olive Oil Spanish Spice Mix Chorizo, Chicken, or Prawns Can of crushed tomatoes Red Onion, Cherry Tomatoes, beans, vegetables on hand.

Stock (the type depends on what meat you have used) 1. Heat up a large, heavy pot with the oil. Add oil, then garlic and onion.

2. Add rice & spice mix - stir til all oil is absorbed and rice is slightly browning, then pour in the stock to cover. Stir til absorbed then add more.

3. Add the vegtables, meat, a bit more stock and cover to cook.

Leave for 1/2 hour so a crust develops on the bottom. Serve with torn, fresh coriander on top straight out of the pot.

PATRICK JAMES www.myspace.com/musicpatrickjames

Patrick James picked up the guitar at an early age, and has been playing music ever since.

With a musical family he has always been inspired to write his own music. Now at the age of 18 he has just finished recording his first EP ‘Turn to Fake’, and believes to have found a sound that suits him. With an array of pub, café and hotel gigs under his name, from the Mid North Coast right through to Sydney, Patrick James has gained wide spread support from his newly found fans. Now, he is eager for his career to take off with the support of people, who truly appreciate and believe in his music.

For our readers who have never heard your music, explain your sound in 3 words.

Moody, chilled & Folky. I write my own music, and I get inspiration from the artists I have been listening to at that time. I love the spontaneity of the whole process. Also trying something different like a new guitar tuning. The feeling of finishing a song is really cool.

If I was to turn on your ipod right now, which five artists would be on your recent played list?

The Tallest man on Earth, The Avett brothers, Colplay, Bob Dylan and Laura Marling. If I could support any artist on tour at the moment, I would love for it to be Boy and Bear.

What are the five things you can’t live without? films, milk, music, guitar, family friends

What’s your motto or the advice you live by?

Its good to have butterflies in your stomach, you’ve just got to let them fly into formation. Give everything your very best and more, put every bit of effort into things you do!

What is you favorite funny song to belt out at the bar/in the car/for karaoke?

Michael Jackson - Black or White!

How do you feel about Justin Bieber?

I watched a video of him on you tube once, with just him and his guitar, and I was blown away by how good he was!

So, what’s your favorite thing to do when you aren’t writing/producing/playing etc?

I love acting. Also going to the beach. I love eating- my house mate is a great cook, so thats a bonus!

Walking, reading etc

Which songs do you perform most frequently? Do you ever play any covers?

Lately, I have been promoting my EP ‘Turn to Fake’ - so playing those 6 tracks at gigs. I also play any new songs I have. I do play a few covers, they seem to be my best songs I think. Haha, and with the playlist, it always seems to change half-way through the set, but I do my best to stick to it! This year I have been playing around sydney, at gigs such as the Landsdowne, Bald Rock Hotel and the Annandale. I have a show on the 27th of October at the Sandringham Hotel, Newtown and the 23rd of December at the Melt Bar at Kings Cross.

Ten years from now you will be...

Hopefully travelling! Ireland or Italy maybe….

Whats the best thing our readers can do to help support you and your music?

Have a listen on Triple J Unearthed www.triplejunearthed.com/patrickjames, and maybe write a review, or go on www.mysapce.com/musicpatrickjames, and check out any up coming shows. Also my EP ‘Turn to Fake’ is availbe on iTunes, so anyone can grab their hands on it!

THE LIGHT INTERFACE

BY EMMA RAYWARD A SHORT STORY I am being haunted by a light. Just a simple street light on the corner down the road. A busy road with many other lights, a shopping centre, restaurants. Crowds of people side-stepping each other. One you will find in every town, in every state.

This street light, balancing nimbly on a rusty, silver pole is unlike others. Every time I’m underneath it, it turns off or turns on. Either there is some devilish pixie nestled in the core, short circuiting every time he spies my brown hair bob on by, or I’m going crazy. It’s happened too often to be a coincidence. You’d understand if it happened to you. Not that I’m petrified, it’s more absurd. A small chuckle exits my mouth every time I notice it. A nervous chuckle, coming from something that I don’t understand. The crowds see me laugh, but not the light. I am the only one who sees what this light is doing.

As I wander home the light never leaves my mind. I’m probably not the only person it happens to, unless I am. It must be a constantly flickering light. Running out of steam every hour or so. As I sit in my bed a sudden darkness catches my eye. I swear to you that a light just turned off in the street below my window. My eyes do not leave the lamp post for 20 minutes, at least. But I see nothing. So I swing my eyes back to the room before me. I am sure that I’ve definitely lost it.

I wear a hat to trick this light. My hair tucked up underneath, so from above I’m indiscernible. It still knows it’s me because now I’m surrounded by darkness. Take it or leave it, says the light. You can have me flickering or you can’t have me at all. This darkness is as if all the street lights and any light anywhere has extinguished itself. Its the same colour if my eyes are open or shut. I can’t tell if they are open or shut. The wider I open them, the more the darkness enters me. I totter forward, maybe out of this light’s range i’ll see again. But all I see is this dark light being emitted from a grate on the ground. My eyeball is stuck to the opening but I can’t tell what is inside. Like a cartoon my eyeball stretches further, a conical pupil pushing forwards. But this dark light fades into the blackness, and it’s impossible to see.

I push my eyeball so hard through the keyhole that my body liquifies and melts through. Slippery dripping through the cracks. This liquid body separates to droplets. My fingernail is one metre under my tongue, and my belly button is above.

I’m present in all the droplets as they welcome gravity and fall. I’m reassembled together again once i’ve crashed into the floor. That dank floor. At least there’s light down here, and that mischievous light from above can’t catch me anymore.

Thousands of bare electrical wires hiss at me, warning me not to walk towards them. We will sting you, they buzz, plug your eye sockets with our cords. Their metallic voices query my arrival into their domain, flesh and blood is no match for electricity, especially considering I’m surrounded by water.

I’ve fallen some distance under the city. Where the crocodiles and discarded infants live. I reach for the wall in hope of comfort, but it is no stone I grip, my hand is bathed in mucus. Khaki green, the snot of ten thousand maidens concealed under the pillows of ten thousand couches.

“Um, I’m not sure how I got down here... I just happened to fall in. It wasn’t intentional at all. I’m actually confused myself. I don’t even know who I’m talking to, or if I’m talking to anyone at all.”

My voice echoes back into my ears, only it’s not my voice, a memory. A deeper, hollower sound than what it once was.

A few logical ideas run into my mind, either I’ve hit my head and this is some sort of dream or, or, or nothing. I’ve got nothing. So my feet and I lurch forward, past the mutant, sucking rats and human fingers. Down into the stench. A mine cart rises from the ground and scoops me up. We teeter along the steel tracks, veering sharply at corners and vertices and vortexes. If I close my eyes it’s as if I’m flying, but I don’t. I’m afraid of flying. Or rather falling and being crushed. Impaled on poles and eyes of others oozing into my mouth. The thin film slit open on cracked glass and swimming in blood.

My mind swims with torturous images and I don’t notice the man sitting under me until he clears his throat.

“Pardon me,” this cavalier gentleman exhaled, as if I were meant to melt at his presence, “but I believe you’re standing on my neck.” With such grace and posture and rich velvet I was left puzzling over whether that grate in the ground was a wormhole to the Eighteenth Century. My mind flips through various possibilities and I can’t help but get lost in a fantasy of an English gentleman courting a young maiden in true Austen style, even though I despise her with force. His throat clears again, strained, and I realise my foot is applying even more pressure to his neck. Pretending the print on his nape is invisible I mutter my apologies, and ogle at his throbbing presence.

Elated that my companion may have some perspective on the situation I splutter questions at him, but am silenced by his skeletal finger raised to my eye level. His buffed nail is a punctuation mark on his structured sentence of a digit. It says: ‘Close your mouth before I pour cyanide down it and then follow that with a match!’ The tiny, razor like teeth on his finger snap and snarl and fling obscenities at me, as a complete antithesis to the sober face of its owner. I am made mute by this statue of a man and his chomping finger.

That in a chomp could tear through my skin and eat through my fat, snapping my nerves in two and boring into my bone.

I hear a faint ‘meow’ emitting from somewhere on this man’s body. I stare at his mouth. I hear it again but notice no movement in it. There is movement, however, near his breast pocket. And pop, a tiny, little kitty cat noses it’s way out of the folds of lavish fabric. Bemused by the pocket kitten I barely hear the “left or right?” the gentleman questions in my general direction.

“Um, which is which?” I reply.

“It hardly matters.”

“Left?”

He hoists a bag to his lap and pulls out a pole four times it’s depth. Mary Poppins, I muse amused under my breath.

“Absurd!” he asserts, “She is fiction.” His icy eyes pierce through my skin and into my bones. They shudder and chatter to each other about this stranger who is pervading my skin. He slams the pole into the floor next to the cart and levers it towards him. An ancient creak is ejected from the tracks and we jolt into a new position. He swiftly places the pole back in his never ending bag and closes his eyes. Without warning I am flung towards the front of the cart, nose smashing into the wood, filling with splinters and snapping in two places. The warm blood trickles down my face like tears and pools around my mouth. Usually these images come into my mind and then in a moment they fade. This time I feel different.

This time it happened outside of my imagination. I edge back towards my seat and squint at the man who never moved.

He raises his finger towards my bloodied cheek and it drinks it up. Slurp, slurp, slurp. Lashings of a tiny tongue tickle my epidermis which responds by expanding in goosebumps.

The cheeky teeth grin at me and return to de-flea the kitten, nibbling and clicking its tongue.

A man, in a grate, with a kitten and a toothy finger. A man who stares vacuously forward, asleep in his consciousness, on pause. His eyelids drape heavily, a flirtatious fawn. The air around his neck melts into his skin, there are molecules of tan and of dark floating around each other. Bowing in courtship, scooping skirts up and flashing flesh. Their hands hold and they roam through partners, batting lashes over golden masks and turning up one corner of a mouth. The fanciful harpsichord is beat by frenetic dancing spiders whose web makes skirts of lace. A delicate and purposeful slip out of step by a painted lady draws eye lines. As does my intense gaze at his face and for the second time I mumble my apologies.

That thumping, pulsing motion, those humming vibrations under my now numb thighs have stopped, I realise. We have stopped. I wonder for how long I had been staring at the space between his neck and the air, imagining the Mozart and the sly flirtation of particles. Their pastel pinks and blues and feathers. And I’ve drifted off again. How long was I gone that time? One second or one hour. And again I’m gone into my head. It’s a positive loop. An unbreakable cycle. And now this silence is stretching longer and my face is reddening and no doubt his temper is inflating. And I cough. And I widen my eyes. And I open my mouth to just a squeak and a release of air.

“Sorry, I got lost,” because I don’t know what else to say. But his eyes are glazed and his jaw has dropped and he is vacant. Is that how I look when I’m off out into nowhere? Fuck. I must look like a psycho zombie brain infested fool. But his finger is still stroking the kitten and spitting out fleas. And it meows its approval.

The hand now limp at his side the gentleman rises and steps out of the cart. He floats, it seems. His gilded shoes glide casually across the muddied surface. The shoe’s tongues wagging at the repelled dirt. My feet are blackened. Mildew and mouldy and sweating parasites, they cling on. And speak klingon. This gentleman, who will not deliver a name, wafts into the darkness of a tunnel, as a golden flash of his heels forge a trail to follow. He tears through hanging vines and planks of wood boarding up the shaft with ease. One touch and they propel away, falling calmly to the floor. Sinking like feathers through the blackened, wet air. He moves earth with his mind. I don’t ask where we are moving to, or why. I just follow.

There’s no need to ask, I don’t know where I am and he seems to. I’m Dirk Gently of the underground. Since I’m not looking for anything in particular I’m sure to find it.

I can’t see the floor, just golden specks pervading through the black. I can’t even be sure if my feet are touching the ground.

I know I’m walking though. Left foot before right, and again, and again. How we walk without effort makes me almost insane. In one moment I think I want to move and the message passes through to my muscles and they do it. They do it. They do it. They, do it. They. ‘They’ is Thor’s cousin. He’s the god of movement. They carries a small hammer, much smaller than his cousins. He silently taps our knees until they reflex and kick off into a walk. At least I know if it fucks up it’s not my fault. It’s They. They does like to keep his minions happy, but every once in a while, in a rage, he wont come near you. They’s specialty is a dead leg. Pins and needles. It was They who numbed my thighs before. And now it is They who has brought me to a halt.

The floor is teeming with kittens. The gentleman steps so casually between them. They avoid his feet as did the dirt. They devour every surface, each chair is made of kittens, or there is one underneath them. Every surface dances in an endless conga, a gentle hypnotic sway cocoons the room. He replaces the pocket kitten back into the herd, which melds invisible into the hundred purring tufts. I can’t move, for fear of stepping on one. But they do not fear me. They begin to wind up my leg. Tiny claws puncturing my olive skin. Boa constricting my veins and my throat, so bewitching. I dance and sway with them, and welcome in the black.

THE LIGHT INTERFACE

ILLUSTRATION BY RACHEL PECK ********* My nose is running. Eyes are weeping, puffed up and red. Just my luck to be allergic. Maybe my incessant sneezing blew the kittens off. Or maybe they were just done. No more kittens, just loose rebel hairs floating on the wind. And I can actually see the room I’m in now. It matches the gentlemen magnificently. Dark mahogany and lush burgundy. Wooden spirals swirl up doors and chairs and tables. And now my legs too. I’m covered by dried crimson scabs, criss-crossing in intimate patterns. I hope they didn’t give me a disease. Soon I’ll be growing bulbous, pussy sores on my face and tongue and they’ll pop and I’ll burn in the acid. And my hair will fall out and my skin will melt and I’ll turn into a puddle of fat on the floor. And the kittens will just lick me up.

But I am alone. No more kittens. No more gentleman. But I do see some stairs. And a light just above them. Flickering. I linger though, for a few seconds more than what is necessary. Maybe he will come back. He didn’t give me anything, am I’m sure he knew I wanted something. Just something, I don’t mind what. So I guess nothing is something if I wasn’t too specific. I should have been specific. What did I even want from him? Knowledge, I guess. Some idea of where I am, have been today. If I have only spent one day down here. I could have been out for days. I’m quite hungry. Yeah, I really am. So I drift towards the stairs, and climb, I climb. Left foot, right foot, repeat until done.

I see my light where I left it. Flickering. Beaming at me. I don’t look away. And I’m not nervous. I feel calm. It’s my light, and it recognises me. And I don’t mind if I’m going crazy.

If you saw me at that moment you’d see a girl, under a flicking light, with a toothy finger that’s petting a kitten.

CHRISTMAS CHEER aka things your parents made you do as a child Growing up, every kid reaches a certain age where the things their parents used to have complete control over, no longer seem like mandatory tasks. Gradually, a shift in power occurs. The moment where you realise that you don’t HAVE to have a blunt fringe and bob for the rest of you life, or that full body rash suits aren’t as fashionable as they are practical are millstones in any persons life. For me and my sister, the annual Santa-photo was a holiday battle that emerged at about age 10, when it suddenly wasn’t cool to sit on Saint Nick’s lap.

Towards the end of every December, my mother would tow my sister and I (normally under false pretences of some kind of treat) off to the local shopping centre. Upon arrival, it was only a matter of minutes before we found ourselves in the line for the Santa photo, full of crying babies and mothers filling in payment forms and choosing which photo package was the best deal (side note - does anyone remember the name of the different combos? Christmas-themed titles such as Dashers Dazzling Deal, Snowing Surprise, Christmas Classic Combo spring to mind. Terrible). It was then we knew what was about to come, and boy did we hate it.

When my sister was much younger, it was my job to try and make sure she didn’t freak out at the concept of being bounced around some bearded strangers lap, until she outgrew me and then I just had to try and look hotter than her (difficult to do in a Santa photo). Initially, this holiday ritual it wasn’t in issue. In fact, the thrill of sitting on a this strange mans lap (I’m quite sure we were both perceptive enough to get the idea that he was not the real Santa) was a nerving yet thrilling excitement. I used to wonder if there was a microphone in Santa’s beard, connected to a small speaker where our parents stood and watched as we told what we wanted for Christmas, as they always seem to know. Conspiracy! This all changed when puberty introduced itself, and as such, I recall that the 2 of the most awkward moments once you turn into a teen including (but definitely not limited to) a) Outgrowing that comfortable age where you need to half-sit half-hover on santas knee to bare some of your own weight off his eldery thighs that are probably more accustomed to children until the age of 10. b) Smiling at the photographer when outthe corner of your eye you realise someone you know from high school is also in the shopping centre and has caught you red handed getting a photo with a fictional character and paying money for it.

Now I am 22, and my sister 19, we have accepted the fact that this will most likely continue to happen every year for the rest of our parents lives, and I am actually proud of my santa photos. My father has decided the best style of presentation for such an artwork is sorted chronilogically (of course) into groups of frames in the hallway, for any guests to admire as they try to make their way to the kitchen. Thank you mum and dad for pushing this ordeal upon us every year - of course parents always know best!

Jessica Burden

MAGNETIC POETRY dead fashion know out drunk demands you can feel angry investigate every open subject weld my hand sense picture some canvas see if it has harmony. imagine scream electric an empty icon soft sculpt black drug think as we do like glass who could hear his experiment make mess here and death of you no use for a name do not scorch ones leg with peppermint tea glorious white loom music appear dust my raw passion, shard like a wild physchedlic instrument about me must masterpiece capture colour compose canvas make passion sculpt impression white pictures always art a soft scream balance dry wood with red impression above this model more they live.

POEM - JESSICA BURDEN PHOTOGRAPH - JOE COLEMAN

Oranges, Bananas, and Pi.

By Jessica Burden LIFE OF PI

By Yann Martel 319 pp. New York A Muslim, Hindu and a Christian walk onto a lifeboat and befriend a Bengal tiger. What sounds like a bad joke told in an Irish Pub is actually the compass of the storyline of prize-winning Canadian fiction writer Yann Martel’s novel, Life of Pi. Though the title implies biographical feel to this novel, it a beautiful and detailed recount of a young Indian boy’s (Pi) experiences surviving on a lifeboat for 227 days. What is actually a fictional tale could well be a remarkable true story, something so crazy it might actually happen. This sense of realism is a major component in what holds the novel together.

The book starts with vivid imagery and engaging, emotive description of a zoo in Pondicherry, India, owned by Pi’s (short for Piscine Molitor Patel) family. This initial setting we are immersed in attaches the reader to Pi’s roots and heritage very strongly, every aspect of this seemingly foreign land is described in a positive sense. “To me, it was paradise on earth...

Every morning before I was out the main gate I had one last impression that was both ordinary and unforgettable: a pyramid of turtles; the iridescent snout of a mandrill; the stately silence of a giraffe...”making it clear that Pi has no desire/ambition to leave.This early setting makes the reader empathise even more with the characters with the next pinical in the storyline - the family decides to leave India, and takes the zoo with them!

The complication arises when the boat, Tsimtsum, carrying the whole family as well as all the animals, capsizes in the middle of the Pacific Ocean during a freak storm “It made a sound like a monstrous metallic burp. Things bubbled at the surface then vanished. Everything was screaming: the sea, the wind, my heart.” Some of the ships passengers manage to make it onto the one lifeboat, including a Bengal Tiger named Richard Parker, a hyena, zebra, and of course the now orphaned Pi. Parts of this book, though so intense, are often described in an almost dry and matter-of-fact tone by Pi “I turned around, stepped over the zebra, and threw myself overboard”. Its hard to know if you want to laugh or cry. Martel is parital to the technique of foreshawdoing. Early on, we learn that Pi in the end does make his way to Canada, majoring in religious studies and zoology, two passions of his that are very strongly detailed the continuation of the novel. Obviously his survival is known - it is everything in between that is interesting. The story drifts back and forth from Pi’s memory of life before the incident - India and Religion; an internal monologue of his thoughts on the world. The nature of the novel is faith, and the study of this young boys religious ephiany of sorts. It examines mutiple religions, and focuses on perspective and the significance of this in ones life.

Martel also details delightful character analysis and paralells towards the end, which I won’t give away. The novel focuses deeply on the interaction between individuals, and the collision of creatures that would never normally be, especially in such unique circumstances. Human intuition and character are challenged, making it an emotionally intense piece of writing that may even “Make you belief in God” according to the book jacket.

This story is told so convincingly through such a painfully honest and youthful character that it’s easy to forget that this is, in fact, fiction. The foreshadowing at the beginning “This story has a happy ending” does little to assure you throughout some of Pi’s lowest points.

Whilst talking about the ending, I wil make the point that the last few pages of the book can be interpreted fairly subjectively. This many be a tad frustrating for some, particuarly as the whole book is so lifelike then loses a bit of credit in the ending where you might find yourself asking a couple of unanswered questions. Ultimately, the impact of the book is this: through the characters experiences, light is shed on relationships, which allows the reader to examine the connections between one and god, one and animals, as well as one and self. An astonishing piece of writing.

1.EVERYBODY 2. WANTS 3. TO 4. GO TO 5. JAPAN My boyfriend decided to study in Japan for one year. Long distance is shitty, so off i went with not very many yens.

We travelled three islands of Japan for two months. It was very hot. The train system is very good. And it really is the most unique place to visit. Because one minute your mesmorised by its charming tradition and how polite everybody is and then you jump on a fast train and the next thing you know you are literally in the middle of a sexed up disney resort on crackcocaine (well maybe not literally, Japan has a very strict drug policy.)

Oh yeah and the thing about japan is that they like to catagorise everything into an unofficial top 5 list. Like everything. Best view of the ocean, best fireworks, best vest. (all legit) So it would be absurd for me not to make my very own “very best of the best things bout japan� list. ok herewego.

BY AVERIL RAYWARD

5 BEST THINGS I DID

1. Shikoku, Japans most beautiful island.

2. Slow trains. we stopped at a lot of small towns and took the long way to get everywhere. We saw more unusual things this way and met unusual people.

3. Fireworks (Hanabi) and Festivals (Matsuri), particulary the fireworks festival.

4. Rode bicycles and drank beer from cans from the konbini 5. Toyoko Inn.

5 BEST THINGS I ATE

1. Onigiri 2. Ramen 3. Izakaya 4. Dumplings from nagoya 5. Meiji chocolate

5 BEST WEIRD THINGS I ATE

1. Raw chicken liver 2. Raw chicken heart 3. Fermented fish that was the worst thing i ever smelt 4. Turtle soup 5. Cow tongue

5 BEST THINGS TO BUY

1. Fake eyelashes 2. Fruits magazine 3. Skill testers and photo booths 4. Stationary and cameras 5. Pottery and ceramics

5 BEST WORDS TO KNOW

1. Kawaii meaniing cute 2. Oishii meaning delicious 3. Sumimasen meaning excuse me or sorry 4. Konbini meaning convienience store 5. Ohayou, konichiwa and konbanwawa meaning goodmorning, good afternoon and goodevening

5 BEST THINGS NOT TO DO

1. Dont meet strangers from Miami in a hostel and stay out with them until six in the morning because you are both lost in the destitute parts of Osaka especially when they were a little bit crazy from fighting in the Iraq war and have a strong desire to sleep with a Japanese woman and/ or women in general.

2. 3. 4. 5. -

5 BEST THINGS TO DO IN A LOVE HOTEL

1. Ride the rodeo boy 2. Sing kareoke 3. Playsuper mario / watch Japanese porn 4. Look at yourself in the mirror either in the one that covers all four walls of the bedroom or the one on the roof.

5. Have sex. der.

HOW NOT TO

TRAVEL AROUND ITALY

BY ELI HORWITZ

Italy is one of the beautiful places on the planet. Everything is there. It is blessed with almost incomparable natural beauty, from it pristine beaches in the south to the highest peaks of the Alps in the north. It is also home to what was once the center of the world, Rome. With Rome and the empire that once flourished around it, comes a modern day center for human history, culture, and food.

The problem is everyone knows this. Every year Italy is overtaken with tourists and this has some serious negative consequences if you are one of them. I was in Italy from April to August 2010 and I can tell you, the last places you want to spend any significant time are the places that you would think of when traveling to Italy. I found my selflooking at amazing vistas and historical artifacts surrounded by a sea of middle aged Americans and Australians.

Whenever I am in a non-English speaking country, the last thing I want to hear is a cacophony of English accents.

This was a constant theme as I traveled around Italy’s more popular tourist destinations.

The overwhelming amount of tourists has many more negative effects then just having to listen to English wherever you go. Italy is known throughout the world for its cuisine, and it is definitely true that you can eat some of the best meals of your life in this country. That being said, I can almost guarantee that you will not eat much better then you do at your local Italian restaurant if you are spending your time in the prime tourist areas. If you are eating in a restaurant with more then a couple other foreigners you are going to be in for some severe disappointment. It is a very simple concept. The Italians stay away from the tourist areas, and the tourists don’t know any better, so why would the restaurant owners bother to serve the re tourist clientele anything special, the answer is they don’t.

If you want to experience real Italy, an Italy in which you eat real quality Italian food, and listening to people actually speak Italian you need to get off the beating track. There are many ways to do this but I thing the best way is an amazing thing called couch surfing, if you are hearing of this for the first time please take a couple of minutes to go to couchsurfing.org, it will be well worth your time. Couch surfing allows you to meet real Italians and get advice from them for where to go and what to eat. The best argument for couchsurfing can be found on there website, but here is a little taste: “Imagine belonging to a team of adventurers from around the world.... As a member of this team, you could travel to virtually any spot on the globe and always have a local friend to give you a free place to sleep and to show you around.”

There are many different ways to travel around Italy. If you are just looking for the easy, tour bus kind of a trip, go for it. You’ll probably have a great time. But if you are going to Italy to see what Italy is really like, away from the semirealities that are the tourist traps, do some research, go to some place you have never heard of and meet the people who actually live there. That is what traveling is all about.

WAYNES WORLD a special TYPE of interview Wayne Thompson is full time Typographer and the founder of The Australian Type Foundry talks about where to find quality fonts, living in Merewether, and cheese. More information on Wayne’s typefaces can be found at facebook.com/austypefoundry & www.atf.com.au Hi Wayne, thanks for taking the time to do this interview.

Please tell the readers a little about yourself - where you’re from and what you do.

I grew up in the Hunter Valley, NSW and studied Communications at Newcastle University. After graduating, I worked as a graphic designer and Art Director in regional advertising agencies, before starting Australian Type Foundry in 2001. Now I work full-time designing and modifying digital typefaces.

Have you always been a typographer, or did you switch over to this from more graphic based design?

I switched over, however I had a deep interest in type since the very beginning.

Have you had any formal training or qualification in design/ typography?

Almost no formal training whatsoever. My communications degree included a graphic design component but, in those days (after leaving high school in the 1980s) I wasn’t sure what career I wanted, so I also explored journalism, photography and sign writing. So I began a career as a graphic designer and leaned most of it by making mistakes on the job. I also have no formal training in type design because, in Australia, it’s impossible to study type design. In fact, there are only two places in the entire world to my knowledge, England and Netherlands.

Accordingly, everything I have learned about type design is based on trial and error, supported by internet research and some email contacts who have been very generous with their time.

How has this influenced your work?

Enormously. Firstly, I am probably more experimental in my approach than formally trained type designers might be, and not being constrained by conventional methods can lead to more adventurous work. But, on the downside, there are gaps in my knowledge of typographic history that—had I been able to access formal training—might not be there.

Why do you design type?

I design type because letter shapes and their beauty fascinate me.

Can you describe the basic process of creating a typeface? How does this differ for retail and custom typefaces?

I generally begin with a sketch, usually just a few letters. This is how I find out if my idea will work. Then I draw the entire alphabet using a drawing board and t-square on A3 tracing

paper. Tracing paper allows me to overlay common shapes for consistency. Then I scan the drawings and create outlines using Adobe Illustrator, and create the rest of the characters using the shapes I have already drawn.

Not many people realise, but there are many more characters in a standard font than the alphabet, such as punctuation, accented characters (é á), mathematical symbols (plus, minus, equals), ligatures (such as the æ in ‘encyclopædia’), currencies ($, ¢, ¥, £ etc), and other languages as well (Greek symbols such as ∑ and Cyrillic/Russian such as ПбЛ). there might be 350 characters in all. Then I will extend that character set to other weights of the font, and then copy/paste each character into FontLab for creation of the final font. The process doesn’t differ for retail or custom typefaces.

What are your tools of the trade, both hardware and software?

I use an Imac 24” and also have a second-hand Mac laptop. My software is Adobe CS4 and FontLab, as well as Microsoft Office for testing purposes.

You are the founder of The Australian Type Foundry, can you talk about the growth of this since its conception in 2001?

Well, growth-wise this is not one of those stories of exponential growth, such as ‘we began with one person and now we employ 200’ type-of-thing. We are still a small business.

However the growth and success has been in the fact that my ambition was to be a type designer full-time, something no other Australian (to my knowledge has yet done).

As a foundry, ATF began in 2001 as a horrible-looking website (designed by me) and is has been through three design revolutions in ten years to present a professional and international face of our business.

What is your favourite typeface you have designed - can you tell us a bit about it?

Halvorsen is probably my favourite, because it marked my transition during 2006 from designer of display faces to text faces. Wacky, crazy and grungy display typefaces are much, MUCH easier to make than text families, due to the lesser requirements of legibility and spacing/kerning. That’s why display types populate the free font websites.

My intention with Halvorsen was to make a text family, which is quirkier and softer in appearance than the entire common sans families out there - kind of a bridge between display and text typefaces. But my design intention is often far different to what eventually comes out, and to me that is very exciting.

Do you have a typefaces that you love and find yourself repeatedly using? Conversely, which fonts do you dislike?

I am a big fan of the Dutch and German sans serif typefaces such as the work of Peter Bil’ak, Lucas de Groot and Erik Spiekermann. Lucas de Groot’s Taz and Spiekermann’s meta are two that i particularly like.

I also like Helvetica very much, but I am aware that many don’t. I think most people are opposed not so much to Helvetica itself but to its overuse... But what I like about Helvetica is its ability to be so expressive with so few details.

What do you believe is the best source for typefaces?

Myfonts.com is a wonderful source, also Fontshop.com, Linotype.com and Fonts.com. Also, there is a new Australian retailer launching soon called fontastic.com What are your thoughts on free typefaces, and website like dafont.com ?

Dafont is great for students because they can’t afford to buy many fonts, however the fonts available are generally of very low quality. They tend to have minimal character sets and bad spacing so while they are ok for experimentation I would never use a free font for professional purposes. In my typography classes I try to discourage my students from using dafont.

As a Newcastle local, can you share any places of interest for like-minded creative people?

Well, I find I am constantly noticing bits of typography around the place, such as shop signage and graffiti. The illuinated awning sign for the 3 Bean cafe in Beaumont St Hamilton fascinates me, because it reads “ILL Bean” i.e. the sign makers have used roman numerals in a sans-serif font which reads as the word “ill” rather than the intended three roman strokes. What fascinates me most is that all the locals actually refer to it as the ILL BEAN. The sign makers should have used a serif typeface, as Roman numerals traditionally are.

Also, there is a shop near the railway gates at Adamstown with the worst logo and signage I have ever seen, typographically wise. It’s a glass and window repairer and, well you should just go and see for yourself. But it reminds me of when I started in the design profession, my work was truly awful because I didn’t know anything.

Thank you again for your time! Any final words?

Cheese.

Interview by Jessica Burden