The blue lotus first issue

Lotus

Issue 1 December 2015

The Blue

Arts Magazine

The perfumed Lotus!

It’s here you gather The miraculous fruits for which your heart hungers; Come and get drunken with the strange sweetness Of this eternal afternoon.

Charles Baudelaire

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Lotus The Blue

Arts Magazine

Cambodia Issue

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December 2015

inside....

5 Editorial

Thoughts on the current issue

by the Founding Editor

6 Honey

Malaysian artist in Siem Reap

26 Spaced Out in Cambodia

Cambodian Space Project

Psychedelia meets Khmer music

38 Space Four Zero

Contemporary Cambodian graphic design 54 A Week with Colors of Cambodia

Honey Khor and Malaysian volunteers in Siem Rea[ 132 Art Talk in Siem Reap

Martin Bradley talking about Contemporary Cambodia Art

to volunteers and students at Colors of Cambodia Gallery

140 Eating Cambodia

Follow-up to previous article in Dusun Quarterly

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about local food in Siem Reap

The Blue Lotus Arts Magazine December 2015 cover: Sticky Fingers, Cambodia

Editor: Martin A Bradley

email: martinabradley@gmail.com TBL TM Published December 2015

Lotus The Blue

Arts Magazine

Dusun Quarterly The Blue Lotus Arts Magazine. has evolved into

Dusun and Dusun Quarterly had been with us for a while.

It was time to re-brand, take a fresh look at what this magazine could be.

So, this is the inaugural issue of The Blue Lotus Arts Magazine.

It replaces Dusun Quarterly just as the flower replaces the bud.

The Blue Lotus will feature international content, not just that from Asia, giving space to a wide range of creativity from across the world.

From time to time The Blue Lotus will devote whole issues to specific countries, just as we did with the Dusun Specials, the last being from Catalonia, Spain.

This ‘Cambodian’ issue brings a wealth of arts material from what was previously referred to as Indochina.

Now read on

Martin Bradley (Founding Editor).

The Blue Lotus Arts Magazine is an entirely free and non-associated publication concerned with bringing Arts ,Culture and Literature to everyone

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Honey

Malaysian artist Honey Khor in Cambodia

Village Siem Reap

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The lane, Krong

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Bars and restaurants

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Near Pub Street

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Common Grounds Cafe

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Malaysian Chinese artist Honey Khor (aka Pei Yeou Bradley) has been visiting Siem Reap, Cambodia, since 2007. Over those years she has developed a large cannon of sketches, and watercolours, many of which have later informed her oil or acrylic canvas paintings.

From the ancient Khmer capitol of Angkor to the now busy tourist hub of Siem Reap, Honey has delicately caught nuances of place which only she is capable of.

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Village Siem Reap

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The Nai Khmer restaurant shines like a beacon of hope amidst all the over-priced, over decorated tourist restaurants which surround it.

Aside from the Old Market itself, Nai Khmer has become a favourite with Honey and her various volunteers, over the years.

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Nai Khmer Restaurant

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Nai Khmer Restaurant

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Nestling with its back to the Old Market, Nai Khmer Restaurant is a welcome rest from the heat and dust of Siem Reap streets.

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Restaurants come and go throughout the busy thoroughfares of tourist laden Siem Reap, but this one, L’Osteria, was a favourite.

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L’Osteria Restaurant

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Village Siem Reap

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Cambodian Spaces by Space Four Zero

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Channthy Kak 28

Cambodian Space Project Khmer/Oz psychedelia takes on the world - and wins

Julien Poulson 29

The Cambodian Space Project (CSP) Is recognised as one of the few truly Aussie Asian hybrids in contemporary music. Since 2009, it has been at the forefront of an astonishing cultural revival in Cambodia, since singer Channthy Kak & musician Julien Poulson teamed up in Phnom Penh, to sing back to life the lost divas & rock legends of Cambodia’s golden age of music, all but wiped out by the genocidal Khmer Rouge regime. The Cambodian Space Project sound is definitely for the 21st century, mashing tradition with rock’n’roll, rare groove, soul, & trippy visual spectacle. They perform re-imagined Khmer classics, alongside originals speaking of Cambodia today like Not Easy Rock’n’roll, Have Visa No Have Rice, and Whisky Cambodia.

The band has released 5 albums & 4 singles, most recently Electric Blue Boogaloo. Its third album Whisky Cambodia, was recorded in Detroit with legendary producer Dennis Coffey, famed as the guitarist in Motown’s Funk Brothers. Other collaborations include with Paul Kelly on The Boat, and Channthy’s collaboration with The Herd MC Ozi Battla in Astronomy Class.

For six years CSP has toured bars, rock festivals and theatres across Asia, Europe and Australia, including, in Australia: Bluesfest, MONA FOMA, Womadelaide, Castlemaine State Festival, & Robyn Archer’s The Light in Winter. In 2014 CSP partnered with Belgian theatre director Michael Laub & Cambodian arts NGO Phare Ponleu Selpak to present Galaxy Khmer at the prestigious Hebbel Am Ufer Theatre (HAU) in Berlin. This year CSP toured the UK including Jazz Café & headlining the Charlie Gillet Stage at WOMAD London, broadcast live on BBC3.That live recording was described by BBC Music as the “Top unmissable moment on BBC radio right now”.

The band was the subject of feature length film Not Easy Rock’n’Roll, which premiered at Sydney Film Festival 2015 and screened to a massive television audience via BBC4 Storyville.

In 2014-5, with the support of a Creative Partnerships with Asia grant, CSP partnered with producer Harley Stumm of Intimate Spectacle and director Carlos Gomes to create the first draft of a contemporary Cambodian-Australian rock opera “Hanuman Spaceman”, in collaboration with traditional Khmer musicians & dancers in Kampot, Cambodia & Sydney.

“They’re a great band, the singer is amazing, really beautiful, the guitars really jump out at you, very affecting.” – Nick Cave (taken from their website http://cambodianspaceproject.org/biography/)

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Channthy Kak 36

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space four zero SPACE FOUR ZERO is a Pop Art Gallery/Music Emporium located in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

We produce Handmade Limited Edition of (100) Sticky Fingers Prints by Artist/Founder Julien Poulson, who is also Founder/Lead Guitarist of the highly acclaimed Psych-Rock Band Cambodian Space Project.

We also carry original Pop Art, Rare Vinyl, CD’s, T-Shirts, Kool Khmer Gifts, Posters and Rock and Roll Collectibles from around the Globe.

You can visit us, call us at 069 558 700 locally or Internationally at +855 6​9 ​588 700 or email us at spaceagencyasia@gmail.com. We also ship worldwide at spacefourzero.com. You can also email us with any questions or concerns.

Shipping usually takes between 5-7 days and for 2 unframed prints shipping is $25 USD or free with print orders over $275 with tracking of package included.

We have cool events and our exhibits also change regularly. Our print exhibitions have toured Europe, Australia, Bali, SE Asia and USA. Like us on FB if you wanna stay updated or check our events section.

We are located at #40 Street 118 (one block from The Mighty Mekong Riverside) in Phnom Penh and are open daily from 11am-7pm or later or always by appointment if needed. Come by for a visit.

“Voted Best of Phnom Penh Gift Guide” Phnom Penh Post 2014 (Taken from their website http://spacefourzero. com/about-us/)

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a week with

Colors o

Cambo

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of

odia

in Siem Reap

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Ancient city of Angkor

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Memories of Lara Croft

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My religion is very simple.

My religion is kindness.

Dalai Lama

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A week in

Cambodia

by Martin Bradley

A few hazy, smoggy days have passed here in Kuala Lumpur. The smell of smoke from Indonesian fires is in the air. We dare not open doors or windows, nor put our washing out. We miss the clear air of Cambodia, but not the heat. I pick up the Siem Reap Angkor Visitors Guide, cover art

by Space Four Zero (aka Sticky Fingers aka Julien Poulson). It is the 52nd Edition, September 2015 to November 2015. I smooth the top right-hand corner which has become slightly dog-eared, and dream a little about our journey. It wasn’t momentous, not awe inspiring or life changing, but it did build upon other journeys we have made to Siem Reap, Cambodia.

On this last occasion we took with us a collection of young Malaysian adults, school children mostly. We also were accompanied by some adults, mothers to the children and some without children. Then there was us - Honey Khor and I, her husband.

Honey has been making the trip to Siem Reap for eight years. I for only three. Together we have visited five times, taking art materials, clothes, shoes, pencil cases and bits and pieces for the school children in Siem Reap, and some for the children who frequent the Colors of Cambodia gallery too.

It is always a surprise and delight how much we are welcomed there.

It is always a surprise to see how busy Honey is, doing this, doing that, organising this and organising that with no complaints; always with a big smile on her face. And people, me included, respond to that. We respond to her and her dynamism, her obvious love for what she does, and her warmth towards the children. There is no doubt that she is very special, and that we are all honoured to know her and accompany her on these trips to Cambodia.

There will be another trip this year. One in December. Thirty adults will fly from Malaysia to Siem Reap, with Honey organising. However, I want to share a little about the recent trip. The one that still lingers on my mind and in my heart…….

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Colors of Cambodia

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Angkor sunrise

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Day One

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We had been gone from Siem Reap for one whole year. It was our first day back...

I was all lathered up, with a minuscule bar of soap in my far from minuscule hand, under a passably hot shower and in a not terribly large bathroom. It was then, while I was soaping, that the electricity went off.

Suddenly, the bathroom was pitch black. There was not the faintest glimmer of light anywhere. I froze. The unseen water continued to flow over my hirsute body, gradually getting colder and weaker. For a second or two I just stood, stunned. I was wondering just what the hell had happened. To say that it was a frightening experience was to belittle my feeling of mild claustrophobic dread. Near to panic, I sought to steady myself against a wall, and to think.

In that darkness, under that, by then, cooling water, time stretched into a limitless future. Over time, which seemed like centuries, I managed to rinse myself off and stood still, praying for the lights to come back on. I expected that they would, any minute. They didn't.

Tentatively, moving slowly, reaching out, I began to feel along the walls, trying to find the shape of the bath. Holding my growing desperation under control, I eventually found the bath’s edge and slipped a nervous foot down into the depths to find the bath mat. It was there, damp from the shower's overspill. It was a welcome landing. Slowly I edged myself from out of the bath, dripping, and groped along another wall to find a towel. I found, and dropped it. I began my search again, found the towel's edge and pulled, heaving a huge sigh of relief as I did so. I had wild imaginings of rescuers coming to fetch me, and my embarrassment of being naked to receive them. The towel was the first step. At least I could be dry and semi-decent when they came, if they came.

The entrance, and therefore the exit to the bathroom still remained a mystery. Grumbling, mumbling, I carefully towelled myself down, and dried myself off. No air-con meant that the room was warming rapidly.

As I dried myself from the shower, I perspired with the effort. It seemed a never ending task. Stumbling, stubbing my previously injured toe (a rather long and boring story), cursing, I felt along the towel rack, along that wall to, yes the door and its handle. I opened the bathroom door.

There was a faint glimmer of light, from the corridor, seeping under the hotel room door. I stood, getting my bearings, adjusting to the light. I made my way to the chair which held my clothes, and began to dress.

With no trumpets to herald my escape, I dressed and went downstairs to speak with the reception staff. They followed me back to the hotel room (2002) where Shamini Flint’s Inspector Singh (A Deadly Cambodian 65

“ Viva Restaurant

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We had been gone from Siem Reap for one whole year.

It was our first day back.

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Crime Spree) could not have done a better job of investigation. It appeared that the intermittent electrical problem was caused by a electrical misconnection from the key-fob insert. Not wanting to be called for a second, or a third, time the most apologetic staff suggested another room. It was smaller, with a similar view of the opposite building's yellow brick wall.

Swings and roundabouts, I said OK.* While I was being treated to a hotel room blackout (with The Eagles' Hotel California lyrics "You can check-out any time you like, but you can never leave! " playing in my head, my dear wife (the Malaysian artist Honey Khor) was out with her team of volunteers, in Siem Reap's Old Market, buying school bags, crayons and stationary for Khmer school children.

Those items are not viable to purchase in Malaysia because of the weight cost by air. They were for the next day's school visit, and subsequent visits throughout that week by Honey and her posse of volunteers.

On the brighter side of our Yin Yang day, the Air Asia plane journey for that annual visit to Siem Reap had been largely uneventful. It was made so much smoother by the Check-In kiosk attendant turning a metaphorical blind eye to our luggage allowance. He waved through our extra luggage and that of our gaggle of volunteers for Colors of Cambodia. He even enquired what was Colors of Cambodia, as we were piling box upon box onto his conveyor belt. That kindly official saved Colors of Cambodia many, many US Dollars. A big THANK YOU therefore goes to Air Asia’s compassion and understanding.

On arrival (some hour and a half later), the shock of the Cambodian Visa pricing (up from 20 USD to 30 USD) was slightly deadened by the brand spanking new Arrival Hall and Customs areas. It was quite obvious who was paying for all that - we non-ASEAN visitors. Those born in ASEAN countries (i.e. the rest of our party) got in free.

That evening, the evening of what was still our first day, Honey (and sixteen intrepid Colors of Cambodia volunteers) busied themselves unpacking/re-packing the boxes and bags full of goodies they had brought over from Malaysia. The Colors of Cambodia Gallery (# 270 Mundull 1 Village, Sway Dong Kum Commune,Siem Reap District, and incidentally just down the road from the infamous Pub Street - where it all happens at night in Siem Reap), was sweatingly hot. The small ceiling fans just could not cope with my foreign bulk, and were not strong enough to offset the baking heat of a Cambodian September.

In that Colors of Cambodia gallery, Malaysian mid-teens mixed with Khmer students of a similar age, and the adult volunteers helped Project Manager/Teacher Honey Khor with her tasks. Before our arrival, Phany (once Colors of Cambodia's student, and now the de facto manager), had organised the delivery of white and blue school uniforms, sewn by local 68

Colors of Cambodia Manager Sophany with slippers for school children

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Honey Khor with volunteers and art materials

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The Yellow Sub

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Khmer young women (from another local charity - Life & Hope). It was all in readiness for the week's visits to local Khmer schools, enabling those 170 sponsored children to return to school. For a while, that evening, Honey and I entertained the Malaysian group with a quick slide-show, catch-up concerning Colors of Cambodia. I included a little history both of Cambodia and of Colors of Cambodia within the slideshow gradually melting like some cartoon snowman, under the heat. It was a free sauna as I dripped into my white Khmer cotton shirt (one of many purchased for the purpose, from Siem Reap's old market) and onto anything within reach.

Q & A and introductions over, we marched the foreign ensemble towards an evening meal at the Viva Mexican restaurant, as most of us were staying above, in the Viva Hotel. After downing a 'bucket' (carafe) of frozen strawberry Margaritas, and some long awaited Tex Mex food, artist Honey Khor and I, accompanied by Malaysian sculptor Maxine Xie Xian Xin, skipped out on the rest and treated ourselves to coffee and chilli chocolate cake (with ice cream) at Siem Reap's Beatles theme pub, Yellow Sub (9A The Lane, Siem Reap, Siemreab-Otdar Meanchey).

Since the early 60s, listening to Radio Luxembourg and scribbling the names of the members of this new group into the bottom of my bedside draw, I have been a sucker for anything Beatles related. The Beatles themed Yellow Sub, which incidentally is yellow decorated on the outside, plays the sort of music I adore. “Bradley, Bradley”, called part owner/manager Singaporean Charnjity Singh,”I didn’t know you were in town”. I explained our mission and we drank Singh’s coffee and ate Singh’s cake to the drifting tunes of Iggy Pop, The Stranglers and, of course, The Beatles. Various framed Beatles albums stared down from the walls and, admittedly, I was a little sad knowing that John Lennon and George Harrison would never again beguile us with new material. You would have thought that, by now, I would have gotten over the band's break up in 1970, and the subsequent deaths of those two band members. But no.

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Malaysian volunteers helping with school uniforms and slippers

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Day Two

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Of course, being a writer, sometimes it is as necessary not to be part of the action as it is, on other occasions, to be part of it. After a quite curious breakfast which seemed to belong to no one country in particular, I forswore the invitation to re-visit Thai Zo school, the nearest to Siem Reap town centre.

While Honey, teachers, students, mothers and sculptor were off delivering uniforms et al, I dragged my overheated, and quite weary, bones around Siem Reap, walking, camera in hand, to capture some of the delights that I had overlooked on my previous journeys. This action was not without a measure of guilt of not helping my dear spouse, but I reminded myself that each gives in their own way, trying badly to assuage my guilt.

The day was, characteristically, hot. I dripped into my third white, Cambodian cotton shirt in two days. I reminded myself that it was the rainy season, though there was no rain, and it was, to repeat, blazingly hot. 'To hot for me' remarked one friendly German tourist as we had sat in the Nai Khmer restaurant the day before, eating brunch. And it was too hot for me too, though I neglected to say so at the time.

I kept to the shade and tried, desperately, to avoid as much sun as possible. In my naivety I sauntered into a bookshop. There, I was fully prepared to be blasted by an extremely welcome chill of air-con. Blast, there was no air-con. I had been conned. I dripped my way around Monument Books seeking Harriet Winifred Ponder’s Cambodian Glory. It wasn't there. I bought two others (Benoît Duchâteau-Arminjon’s Healing Cambodia One Child at a Time, and Andy Gray/Sao Sreyma’s Home a Cambodia Story) and dripped my way back out. The level of tuk, tuk sirs had lessened (slightly) on that trip, but the number of disabled purveyors of tat and child sellers of postcards had increased many fold. Drawn, no doubt, by the increasing numbers of tourists. Like many countries, India included, in Cambodia it is almost impossible to turn away from people seeking aid, or alms, but you simply cannot, and it is probably wise not to, give to everyone. Better to give to one of the many charities, like Access Siem Reap or Grace House Community Centre, who can make a real difference to land mine victims.

And then it rained.

It rained not the miserable drizzle of the English countryside, but the full-on Monsoonal rain of tropical Cambodia. The rain quickly cleared the streets, preventing internet signals and instantly drenching unaware tuk, tuk drivers. I looked out from the Viva; and over a pot of Lipton's tea gazed past the gathering Malaysian Chinese volunteers to the romantically hazy streets enjoying the cool, the rain had finally brought.

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Khmer masks

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Of course being a writer sometimes it is as necessary not to be part of the action as it is on other occasions to be part of it..

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Beside a Wat (temple)

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Siem Reap at night

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From somewhere a rock refrain began, a quite unnecessary sound track.

The roads quickly became streams, polystyrene boxes were swept along by newly formed currents. Expressionistic evening lights reflected romantically off rain drenched polished surfaces. As evening drew dramatic curtains to sight, colours became more pronounced, brighter, contrasted, framed and mounted by the Cimmerian backdrop. Tuk , tuks, now enclosed like mini hearses, rode on tenterhooks past Viva. For a moment we all were stranded, unable to walk to Colors of Cambodia Gallery. Therefore, in a very Malaysian way of looking at life, it must be time to eat. When in doubt, eat, it is the Malaysian way. With the expectation of more food later I ordered a Quesadilla (a wheat or corn tortilla filled with a savoury mixture), chicken because my dear wife does not eat beef, for her own reasons.

Honey had continued her preparations for the morrow. An early start was muted. A trip to Samamki school, an hour's drive away from Siem Reap. Tractor trailers had been hired to take the seventeen Malaysians, plus goods and materials to dispense at the school. Meanwhile, on the evening of the second day, Malaysian sculptress Maxine XXX taught a little sculpturing to ten Colors of Cambodia students. Eager, bright, young faces watched intently as Maxine demonstrated. It was a wining first for the gallery. Maxine had captured those watchful minds.

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Down the restaurant laden alleys in Siem Reap

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The infamous Pub Street

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Pub Street is evolving

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Some schools Colors of Cambodia visits are off the beaten track

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Day Three

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On that third day, while Colors of Cambodia volunteers, parents and young adults underwent their exhausting tractor trailer trip to dispense their much needed items, I had traversed the varying delights of Siem Reap's covered Old Market. There was an intriguing half-light in that market, reminding me of other times, other markets; the Medina in Tunis or the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. I trundled the Old Market’s tunnel-like lanes and squeezed past clothes purveyors calling out to me, threatening me with T-Shirts emblazoned with elephants. I escaped the many invitations proffered, including one by a young girl who offered herself. I have a suspicion that she was either jesting, or very, very, desperate.

In the market gloom, broken only by naked low hung electric bulbs highlighting grapes, guava or bananas, beggars begged, pork sellers sold every porcine aspect; ears, heads, the usual chopped flesh and of course offal. Sausage sellers sold intriguingly red sausages and cornucopias of fish, dried and spatchcocked. It was as authentically Khmer as I was going to get in Siem Reap, a town constantly overrun by tourists.

Somewhere, on a very long scale from creaking roadside stalls selling baguettes (a left over from French ‘protection’), to dinky little middleclass eateries costing an arm and a leg, there was my return to the New Leaf Eatery (formerly Book Cafe). New Leaf was hiding at Group 10, Phum Mondul 1, Svay Dungkum, 306 Street 9, Krong Siem Reap, at the side of Wat Preah Prom Rath (Cambodian temple), and just off Street 9, opposite the rear of Sky River (a small mall). While Colors of Cambodia continued its worthy work to one of the further flung schools around Siem Reap, I returned to my quest to find either Siem Reap, or myself. I proved to be a tad more elusive than I thought, and had to settle for Siem Reap which, as it turned out, proved equally as difficult.

The New Leaf had changed little in the time I had been away. It was just as quiet, just as hot, just as real laid back as it was on my last visit. I always have such high hopes of fellow ex pats, believing them to be welcoming, warm, delighted to see fellow countrymen. It is a self delusion. While I am generally disappointed by their unfriendliness, perhaps they too are disappointed by mine. It is the same in Malaysia. Maybe it’s because ex pats tend to have wanted to get away from others of their race, and therefore are disconcerted when they are tracked down in there lairs, as it were. On a previous trip to Siem Reap I had interviewed one French multiple restaurant owner who had confessed to not liking the French.

I had felt none of the bonhomie in The New Leaf that I had in the Yellow Sub. But then, the Yellow Sub is run by a Singaporean Indian.

In Siem Reap, pavements are a mixed blessing. Mixed in the sense that many pavements are broken. Some are blocked by piles of earth, bricks or 93

Traditional teaching methods hold sway in Cambodia

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I returned to my quest to find either Siem Reap or myself.

I proved to be a tad more elusive than I thought and had to settle for Siem Reap which as it turned out proved equally as difficult.

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rubbish, while others act as car and tuk, tuk parking spaces. Pedestrians are forced onto busy roads and end up dodging varying forms of vehicular ambulation, in order to survive. Siem Reap still has that frontier town feel to it, and maybe that’s its draw. Five and six star hotels/restaurants rub expensively pristine shoulders with five USD dorm hostels, blocked pavements and rubbish strewn streets. It is a town trying hard to make up its mind which direction it should be going in and, in that, has its own kind of charm amidst the baby powder scams and increasing tourist traps.

Later that afternoon I briefly met Honey Khor. She led her charity posse back from the Cambodian wilds to Common Grounds (coffee and cyber cafe), in the Old French Quarter, Krong Siem Reap. A reddened, somewhat scorched Honey enthused about their trip, one I undertook with her a year hence. Maxine had taken some party clothes, masks etc for the local school children to have fun with. She took children's photographs and sought somewhere to print them out, to give back to those Cambodian school children. It was practically a five hour journey, yet still some of them continued to Colors of Cambodia Gallery for yet more giving of themselves. Fearlessly, I walked back to the Viva Hotel in search of an afternoon nap.

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Day Four

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The fourth day threatened rain. It gave up to produce a beautiful blue sky, and all the heat you might just want to get that tan, if getting a tan is important to you.

While Honey and her merry band, not of Pranksters (a la Ken Kesey) but of Malaysian volunteers, shot off to Khnar Cha school and later to the flooding lake, I ended up walking to the café Common Grounds( billed as ‘An American café in the heart of Siem Reap’). It was in the Old French Quarter, Krong, Siem Reap, at the rear of the Angkor Children's Hospital (where Colors of Cambodia has been commissioned to paint a second mural). Somehow, The Little Red Fox Espresso, one of the many coffee joints now jousting with each other for customers, being open air and having a group of customers sitting around the doorway, just did not take my fancy on that very hot day.

I desperately needed air-con, Wi-Fi, and quite possibly a bit of quiet, to write. Well, I got two out of three. The constant 'blending' of ice, plus whatever had taken a particular customer's fancy, provided a nonquiet backdrop to my earnest efforts. I got little done. Honey and I had frequented Common Grounds daily, during one of our previous trips. It was in those sweat inducing days while we were painting the first mural, in the Out-Patients Department of Angkor Children's Hospital and old habits, seemingly, are so very hard to change. I ordered a Chai Latte.

"Sorry sir, no Chai today”. “OK I'll have a lime and passion fruit." Siem Reap is Buddhist, all very laid back, still, despite the hordes of tourists who continued to pile into the nearest access point to Angkor Wat, disseminating their USDs like WMDs. The Malaysian (Sri Madhu) Colors of Cambodia volunteer visit (of 2015) is a very long way from the Beat Poet, Allen Ginsberg's visit to Angkor Wat, "June 10th, 1963, Siem Reap, Cambodia.". Ginsberg would not have recognised the tourist ridden, multiple construction, ultra materialist Siem Reap, for it is a far cry from his one week in.... "Siem Reap, which is outside of Angkor Wat, a town outside of the ruins." Mentioned thus in Montreal, Canada, just before Allen Ginsberg read his poem ‘Angkor Wat' to Art Students, in 1969. With thanks to the internet and WiFi, I was there, in Common Grounds, Siem Reap, listening to that very same poem, recorded at that event, with all the sur reality that entails.

The evening saw me acting the fool at Colors of Cambodia Gallery.

Ostensibly I was presenting a slide show of Cambodian Modern Art for the students (Cambodian and Malaysian), in reality I performed my usual song and dance routine as I attempted to widen the horizons of my (mostly) young audience.

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Khmer school children value their education

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“The huge s the va serpent fallen o over th in a square curved ro looked Dra stone-s As frail a this harde life crushin 106

snake roots aster t arms octopus he roof e courtyard oofcombs agon-backscaled as stone is er wooden ng them”

Excerpt From: Angkor Wat, in Allen Ginsberg. “Collected Poems 1947-1997”.

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Lara Croft tree at Angkor

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Traditional rural transport

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Day Five

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It was the fifth day and the Viva Hotel restaurant had a black mark that day. My breakfast bacon was halved in size, while the proffered mushrooms (as part of the set breakfast), were nonexistent. British actor Gary Oldman might agree with my upset as he once said; ‘My favourite meal would have to be good old-fashioned eggs, over easy, with bacon.

Many others, but you can't beat that on a Sunday morning, especially with a cup of tea.’ I had coffee. I dreamed of breakfast at the Nai Khmer, just a few yards down the road, but dare not order another breakfast.

The day and I started ill, and slid down to become sick. Members of the group and I suffered from a gastro bug. Not being as stalwart as some, I spent most of the day in the hotel room incapacitated and intermittently writing.

Colors of Cambodia chief muckamuck and Founder, the American artist Bill Gentry, arrived from Singapore. Honey and Bill played catchup, organising, re-organising, agreeing, disagreeing to changes big and small to the organisation that Bill had began in 2003. Bill greeted the Colors of Cambodia's Art teachers, Phany, Ponlue and Sokoun who have been some of that organisation's success stories. In Social Work I was trained to empower and enable those I worked with. Bill and Colors of Cambodia have successfully set up a scheme whereby children come at an early age, learn art and eventually become teachers themselves. The three current teachers were all previously young students of Colors of Cambodia, who have successfully made that transition. That evening, Bill, teachers, volunteers young and old ate together in a spirit of benign acceptance and genuine bonhomie.

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Breakfast at Nai Khmer

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I dreamed of breakfast at the Nai Khmer, just a few yards down the road

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Day Six

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America, with its all pervasive Coca Cola culture, continues to swamp Cambodia. It is so damned difficult to find real Cambodian coffee anymore. Viva Hotel has the Italian Lavazza coffee. When asked, no they didn’t have local coffee but suggested I went into the Old Market. Still trying my luck, I ordered what was billed as 'Cambodian Coffee' at La Boulangerie, and got a thin, very thin, American coffee. Drink by drink, pizzeria by pseudo bloody pizzeria Cambodia is being squeezed out of Siem Reap. Where once real, sweet, thick Cambodian coffee was freely available on stalls along the streets, and more especially at the Night Market (Angkor Night Market St, Krong Siem Reap), now this thin, bitter coffee the Americans like so much is foisted upon visitors knowing little better. Cambodian culture is being suppressed by the tourist dollar, children beg for powdered milk and adults lust after Samsung and Apple products. It is sad to see the rush to consumerism, to materialist Capitalism which has already brought the ordinary people in the West to their knees. It is now dragging this ancient race to destruction too.

Tourism, unchecked, will do as much damage to Siem Reap as Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge had.

Back at the Gallery (Colors of Cambodia that is) I am confronted by teacher Ponlue, handsome T-shirt painter and teacher who, as it turned out, was my saviour. Ponlue walked me down from the Colors of Cambodia Gallery to the Old Market. There, sitting outside, and almost indistinguishable from the market itself were a trio of practically identical tricycle street vendors. Two out of three sold fruit or fruit drinks. One, and that was the important one, sold authentic Cambodian iced coffee all sticky, sweet and full-on taste, none of that namby-pamby, dish-wash water so-called cafés are serving. My straggly bearded face lit up. It was as if the haze had been lifted from Kuala Lumpur, or some biblically named beautiful angel had appeared before me proffering eternal salvation. The local Cambodian coffee is in fact a misnomer. It is Vietnamese coffee laced with condensed milk, and cooled with twice its capacity of tube ice. There is something similar in Malaysia but bitter, and different coffee beans, and beans means not Heinz but the world of difference in coffee taste.

It was the final Cambodian evening. Colors of Cambodia prime mover Bill Gentry had gathered to himself a band. It was a duo which expanded to a quartet, for some numbers. As a lyricist, Bill’s songs tended to stay with you long after the final note had drifted off into the ether. They stayed with me. I recognised numbers from his Kuala Lumpur set the previous year, and involuntary hummed along that night and for the next few days as I couldn't shake some tunes out of my head.

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The Old Market, Siem Reap

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Recycled rice or concrete bags

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Bill and his band, poignantly called Art Will Save The World (title taken from his hoarding above the Colors of Cambodia Gallery), regaled a practically packed house at The Grey Khmer Grill. Bill strummed the chords, percussion was drummed and occasionally accompanied by a serene sax and flying flute. At the start of the set there was a constant stopping and starting, as bouquets of flowers were proffered to the artist/ singer/musician. Hands clapped profusely under coloured stage lighting, whistlers whistled and Cambodian moonlight carousers, caroused. There was a strangely stuffed goat halfway up one wall, behind the bar, which seemed in all its stuffedness to look on, and looking like it had recently stepped from out of a 1912 Bock Beer advert. That bizarre goat’s horns devilishly curled like Art Nouveau vines watching the beguiled revellers.

The Grey Khmer Grill’s ceiling fans, like many others in Siem Reap, were unable to cope with the heat. Their whispers of breeze barely touched our glistening bodies. Bill's mid-American cadences melted into the Cambodian night, I melted into my chair while Bill sang a Country and Western song penned in Phnom Pehn and sung in Siem Reap. The Tropical heat resounded to tales of missed fathers, crying, flying, women and songs of pining love. Colors of Cambodia staff and children took their necessary, or is that unnecessary, photos, waved banners and danced the night away somewhat ecstatically. Honey danced. Cambodian artist Seney, danced. Colors of Cambodia teachers old and new jumped into those flashing, flowing lights, cavorting in support of their founder. It was a fitting end to that September’s sojourn in Siem Reap. A fitting end to the week which metamorphosed ‘a fire that blooms into a flower’ (Bill’s retort before his penultimate number), and a fitting end to all the hard work that Malaysian artist Honey Khor had put in to make it all happen. There was one more, then one more, rocking, rollicking, strumming number to leave the audience on a high. Always leave them wanting more, and Art Will Save the World, did.

With the early departure of Maxine, and soon after the rest of our entourage, Cambodia was left to the traders, the tourists and the people who may or may not require saving from their selves, and quite possibly from us too.

A sincere thanks to all who inspired my writing about Siem Reap, those who contributed photographs and those who recalled those things I was not present at. Thank you. Martin

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Colors of Cambodia Founder Bill Gentry showing another side of his many talents

*

Of course, what I endured in that bathroom was nothing when compared to the travails of Cambodia itself; the buffeting from neighbouring countries, the devastation of its own civil war when so much damage was done not just to the people, but to the very culture of those people. The blood bath and aftermath that killed a quarter of the Cambodian citizenry and set that country back centuries. The Khmer Rouge (Red Khmers) destroyed the country's infrastructure, its railways and the ancient Khmer identity. And, ultimately, it is the reason why Honey Khor comes to Siem Reap, every year, to help in some small way. Siem Reap, or so I am reliably informed, means 'Raped by the Siamese' (Thailand)', a permanent rampant middle finger to Cambodia's aggressive neighbour.

There is a common misconception that the Angkor city temple (Wat) complex was lost and rediscovered by the Frenchman Henri Mouhot. It is a myth. Angkor, in which the Wat resides was built between 800AD to 1300AD and was never lost, never entirely abandoned and therefore never 'found' or re-discovered. Chinese annals dating back to 1296, show that in that year Zhou Daguan chronicled that the Chinese Emperor Temur Khan (who ruled China between 1294–1307) and his stay in Angkor Thom (then called Yasodharapura). Zhou Daguan’s book was titled Zhenla fengtu ji (Account of the Customs and Geography of Cambodia). Antonio da Magdalena (a Portuguese monk) visited in 1586 and later told Diogo do Couto what he had see. Do Couto wrote this up. Japanese inscriptions have been found belonging to one Japanese visitor (Ukondafu Kazufusa) who had been to Angkor and celebrated Khmer's New Year there in 1632. While in 1857, Father Charles-Emile Bouillevaux, who was a French missionary based in Battambang, published his book, Travels in Indochina (Voyage dans l'Indochine, 1848-1856). There had been many others too.

Siem Reap, once a defender of Cambodia against the invading Thai (Siamese) armies, had finally succumbed to invading armies of tourists instead. After the devastation of a lengthy civil war, Cambodia had accepted foreign aid to begin to rebuild. Along with the various well meaning NGOs came the tourists. Siem Reap is the nearest stepping off point for the most illustrious Wats (temples) at Angkor. This has become a world heritage site and magnet for lovers of antiquity as well as young and ageing Hippies. Some perhaps, following the trail of Beat Poet Allen Ginsberg's wanderings through Asia.

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School welcome committee

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Phany, Honey and Bill

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A big THANK YOU from team Colors of Cambodia

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one woman

Every so often a book appears that reveals and illuminates a project that might otherwise remain largely unknown by the outside world: ‘Colors of Cambodia’ is such a book. This is a highly personal and passionate account written by Martin Bradley and illustrated by Pei Yeou Bradley of her encounter with a remarkable art-based project in and around Siem Reap in Cambodia, and how she was drawn into practical involvement with the children for whom the project exists.

The book shows how a small NGO run by William Gentry in Siem Reap has been able to reach out to children in local schools, some in areas of great poverty, through the medium of art, and to give them hope for the future in a country that has suffered so much. The children and their families who are drawn into the project prove how art can cross all borders of language and culture. The book also tells of how Malaysian children and their parents have been encouraged to support the project and to become involved with the children and their work.

This is a highly personal and passionate account written by Martin B remarkable art-based project in and around Siem Reap in Cambodia, for whom the 130

n’s journey

And there is the additional touch of magic as Pei Yeou and Martin tell of their meeting and of how he too was drawn into the story, and contributes to it, and of how it changed his life. His sensitive words and poetry add another colour to this unique book In a world in which the news is bad more often than not, this inspirational book tells a story of optimism and success, and of how dreams can become true.

Richard Noyce, Artist and Writer, Wales, July 2012

contact honeykhor@gmail.com martinabradley@gmail.com

Bradley and illustrated by Pei Yeou Bradley of her encounter with a , and how she was drawn into practical involvement with the children project exists.

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art talk Siem Reap

WITH MARTIN BRADLEY

Martin talking

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Current Colors of Cambodia students

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Cambodian Contemporary Art

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Gallery Colors of Cambodia

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eating CAMBOD

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DIA

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Prawns drying

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Taking ‘eyes’ out from Pineapple

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Tamarind

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Drying Cambodian sausages

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Street stall

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Dried fish

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One of the many Western styled restaurants in Siem Reap

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Everything including Durian ice cream

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Lanes abundant with bars and eateries

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Cambodian cockles

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Fried sweetmeats

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Salted

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Simple Soup Noodles

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Charcoal baked street food

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Market desserts

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Tourist traps

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...And amazingly fresh fruit

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Dusun Pu Books by Martin

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Bradley

ublications 169

CAMBODIA CHINA

WITH MARTIN BRADLEY

MALAYSIA PHILIPPINES SPAIN 170