quint magazine | issue 10 by quint

4 Our Note 5 Contributor Highlights 6 News & Products Design 10 On Postmodernity 12 Featured Artist: Andrew Gareth Young 30 Featured Artist: Woodcum Photography 46 Web Developer & Artist - Matt Wisniewski 56 Featured Photographer - Lucy Rice 72 Featured Photographer - Chris Davis - Jump! Film & Theater 86 If I were you I would like to see Grace Kelly as large as humanly possible 88 Diary of a Chronic Artist - At First Sight Fashion & Beauty 90 On the Road 108 Sneakers of the Month 110 112 114 116 117 118 120 122

Music Iron & Wine Deep Crates - Bigger Than Hip Hop SBTRKT at XOYO Psyched Mixtape Gin Talks Gravel & Wine Gold Panda at Koko’s Dust Presents - Just Like Music

124 126 127 128 130 132 134

Literature Of Bob Dylan & the Work of Artists The Kitchen Slave - Day 4 What I Would Tell Her The Cricketer In Two Minds Purge Reading List

136 142 144 145 146 148 148 150 152 154 156

Events Metallica at Yas Arena Stoli - The Next Original Hamdan Al Abri - EP Release Party For The Love of Music Drive Out Loud MINI Festival Michael Love Rexen Phioro Gayathri’s Single and Music Video Launch quint @ The Fridge - Audiophiles Anonymous Virgin’s Anniversary Event Listings

Last Call 158 Why?

OUR NOTE THIS ISSUE YOU CAN EXPECT TO SEE NEW FACES, NEW CONTRIBUTORS, AND MORE OF WHAT YOU LOVE. OUR WEEKLY SCHEDULES ARE FILLED WITH ART EVENTS, CONCERTS, GIGS, AND MORE AND MORE OPPORTUNITIES FOR SELF EXPRESSION AND COLLABORATION. SO AS WE DELVE INTO THE CRAZY PART OF THE YEAR WE LOOK FORWARD TO MEETING MORE AND MORE INTERESTING AND INSPIRING PEOPLE. I’M WRITING THIS AFTER PULLING OVER 20 HOURS AT THE OFFICE AND HAVING ONE OF MY DREAMS COME TRUE. YES, LAST NIGHT I SAW INCUBUS. SO FORGIVE MY LACK OF WORDS, BUT IT’S HARD TO THINK WHEN YOU’RE RUNNING ON EMPTY. SO I’LL KEEP IT SHORT AND SWEET. ZAINA SHREIDI EDITOR IN CHIEF

quint magazine | issue 10 | November-December 2011 Editor in Chief Zaina Shreidi zaina@quintdubai.com Creative Director Gyula Deák gyula@quintdubai.com Business Development Manager Shashank Parekh shashank@quintdubai.com Designers Ritu Arya Fashion Editor: Pratha Samyrajah Photographers: Saty+Pratha, Olga Lobanova, Samar Alkhudhairi, Ritu Arya Contributors Prank Moody, Trevor Bundus, Mohamed El Amin,Fares BouNassif, Wael X, Siham Salloum, Trainer Timmy, Nijas Salim, Alex Story, Joe DeLorenzo, Ryan Bryle, Ashley Cadzow, Samar Alkhudhairi, Liam Demamiel, Ross Gardiner, Behlul M. This production and its entire contents are protected by copyright. No use or reprint (including disclosure) may be made of all or any part of this publication in any manner or form whatsoever without the prior written consent of quint. Views expressed in quint magazine do not necessarily represent the opinions of the editors or parent company. quint is published by and a trademark of quint FZ LLC. Circulation: 10,000 Printed by: GALADARI PRINTING & PUBLISHING LLC

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CONTRIBUTOR HIGHLIGHTS

DANA DAJANI

ASHLEY CADZOW

ROSS GARDINER

Dana Dajani is an international performance artist and writer. She is passionate about many projects, but mostly establishing Dubai’s first professional resident theater company. Those interested in collaboration should contact: dana.thehumanspiritproject@gmail.com

For what Ashley lacks in age, he makes up for in passion and soul. Boasting over 2000 films in his collection, he has a soft spot for Tarintino films and anything with blood and guts. He is a ghost blogger for the Editor in Chief of a global magazine (though he can’t say whom) and spends his days reading up on the latest fashion trends, music and art. His life has been a whirlwind of chaos and he’s finally planting his feet in the ground.

Ross Gardiner is a fiction and humor writer from the Highlands of Scotland. Born in 1987 he lived in Scotland until 2008, when he decided to move east to Seoul, South Korea. He has travelled extensively around various parts of the world, carrying a keyboard, a coffee and a carton of smokes. Oh and he’s not on Facebook. You can find out more about his views on the topic on YouTube.

RYAN BRYLE

ALEX STORY

NIJAS SALIM

Alex Story, 26, is a Canadian musician living in London, England. He recently left the psychedelic trance duo he co-founded, and which took him to over 20 countries across the world, to start a new London-based indie-folk band, for which he plays guitar and writes the songs. In his spare time, Alex is a keen writer and also a published graphic designer. While building his band, he is currently working as a bicycle messenger in London.

Nijas Salim is an expressionist that uses various media to represent his thoughts including words, film, pixels, silence, and grunts. He is also a chaotic manifestation of Jack Who? Precisely, he wants you to tell him Jack Who? He writes and reblogs at soulspills.com and tweets at nijazsalim. His two possessions include the only dance move he knows and has mastered, the head nod, and the domain name nijas.me which has no web page. In his sleep he talks about big business ideas.

LIAM DEMAMIEL

BEHLUL M

SAMAR ALKHUDHAIRI

Liam is an Australian based university student with too much time on his hands. His diversions include pre-electric Dylan, playing out of tune and pretending he is Ziggy Stardust. He has written for a number of publications of questionable repute and works with Birds Love Fighting, an Australian independent music label.

Media and advertising is what he does, writing and games is what he’d like to do. Found out in college he could put a few words together and produce a half-decent sentence as a result, since then, he has been hunting for a way to make a living off writing. One day, he’ll write a long and boring book. Will make millions.

Imported intern. Working on a degree that specifies in studying humans and their consciousness. she also studies art and holds a long term serious relationship with her nikon. Soon to graduate she came for some experiential education on this side of the world to broaden her horizons.

Still fresh out of the exam halls, with all his textbook knowledge and mighty student swag intact, Ryan Bryle is hell bent to conquer! Sadly he is still trying. Indecisive by nature, Ryan dabbles on everything that has artsy-fartsy written on it. If he finds the time between gorging on books, penning ambiguous bizarr-o proselike things and tinkering with music, he will surely be somewhere without thirst. He really needs to sort his life out. Fact.

news&products Lomo Kino Just when we thought that the wonderful people at Lomography couldn’t wow us any more than they have already, they go and bring us this. Introducing the LomoKino – a 35mm analogue movie camera! Yes! Yes! We watched the teaser videos. We made our guesses. And pretty early on the beautiful thought of an analogue movie camera flitted across our eager minds. But we chased it away – worried we’d be sorely disappointed if that wasn’t the case. But lo and behold, here it is! A movie camera that shoots short films on normal 35mm film! Oh and of course, it’s totally affordable. For a measly $80 US dollars (less than 300 dhs) you can have your very own LomoKino. That’s less than most people spend on a night out. Go. Get. It. And when you do, share your awesome short films with us and we’ll promote the heck out of your creativity. Check it out. Drool over it. Buy it. All at www.lomography.com

Royal VKB & ARIAN BREKVELD’S Fresh Traveler Are you always running out of the house, missing breakfast? Let’s be real - granola bars are never fulfilling enough, which is why you need a Fresh Traveler. This little traveler will not fail you. The top compartment maintains food temperature and the bottom is equivalent to a Tupperware. Super handy for cereal and milk, berries and yogurt, coffee and biscuits or even winter lunches - soup and bread! Enjoy your noms to go!

Portable USB Power Supply You know those days when you somehow forgot to charge your phone overnight because you fell asleep watching bad TV and never plugged in your phone? And of course the next day is filled back to back with meetings and then you end up going out after work, and your phone is dying. Well fear not, with this tiny little gadget, you can carry power with you all day, everyday! This little keychain is a power supply: you just plug in a USB cord into your phone, mp3 player, or iPad and viola! No need to search for an outlet or shlep along fifty different chargers with you! http://www.thinkgeek.com/electronics/cellphone/e686/

http://shop.royalvkb.com/shopexd. asp?id=434&menu=

Magnet Attractions By Nails Inc. Nail art has been a real hit these days, from fun new bright colors, OPI’s new shatter line, but magnet attractions seems to be the new and in my opinion most unique polish out there right now. I’m the kinda girl who likes to play with colors for hours, but then ends up with fingernails that resemble a 6 year old’s most recent attempt at “painting.” But with magnet attractions, it’s easier to create a pattern because you’re using a magnet against this magnetic polish to create a design, ciao sloppy polish cuticles hello clean cut and pretty! http://www.nailsinc.com/magnetic

Wine Glass & Champagne Flute Sponge You know how they serve water in nice wine-esque glasses in restaurants? For some reason I’m the person who has fallen into this habit in my home. I just prefer the delicacy of a wine glass to a bulky, thick glass. But unfortunately washing these beautiful wine glasses so frequently leads into slippery sloppy accidents, but not when you have this little delicate sponge- the perfect shape to clean the curves of the glass http://www.incrediblethings.com/home/wine-glass-champagne-flute-sponge/

MR BUTTON Silly faces result in big smiles! “Mr. Button” designed by John Caswell Design is the button meant to add character! Adorable huh. Next time you lose a button you’ll have a reason to smile with one of these characters! Totally worth digging out that sewing kit and wishing horrific button-related catastrophes upon your new pantalones. You can buy them here: http://johncaswelldesign.bigcartel.com/ product/mr-button

Amit Gupta Need you! Who’s Amit Gupta you say? Amit Gupta is just an average dude who had been feeling fatigued and realized he was losing weight, but when he went to the doctor to get things checked out he was told he has acute leukemia, and treatment must start immediately. He’s undergoing chemotherapy at the moment, but after chemo he needs a bone marrow transplant. Amit put together a very well designed website about his situation, in search for a bone marrow match, educating the public about how we can help people with acute leukemia. Take a look before November 30 and maybe you can be the one to save a life! http://www.amitguptaneedsyou.com/

Colour In Dress Fashion meets arts and crafts, sounds kinda tacky huh? But not this one, the Colour-in Dress is a black and white dress with a pattern and comes with special markers, allowing you to add in your own creativity to bring your outfit to life! Also feels kinda rebellious. Remember how we used to get in trouble for getting marker all over our new clothes at school? Well now you can stick it to the man. Yep, through colouring on a dress. Hey, we aren’t hard to amuse. The creative brain behind this awesome product, Berber Soepboer, is unique designer who strongly believes in clothing that can be worn different ways; she wants the wearer to choose how to wear the cloth. Check out more of her funky designs at http://www.berbersoepboer.nl

Muji Touchscreen Gloves This generation’s dream! Or for those who actually live in cold countries. Say goodbye to frostbit fingers, and hello to toasty appendages. These wool gloves make dreams come true! Now you can text and email while you’re trekking to work or waiting for the train without losing feeling in your fingers! http://www.muji.us/store/ touchscreen-gloves-unisex.html Swap art for art, or swap items for art! No, but really! Need some new prints? A selection of artists post their work up on letswap.it and anyone can bid on the works. The artist decides whether the swap is worth it - if so they send their work your way and you send whatever you’re swapping in return! Simple as that - No fees. No scams. Just some good ol’ exchanges! letsswap.it

Letsswap.it

Jimmy Flamante If you’re tired of the usual run-of-the-mill hip hop releases then fear not, on Monday 14 November the good people as Jus Like Music Records are releasing a new EP by Venezuelan beatsmith Jimmy Flamante entitled ‘Hip Beats Vol.1’. The release charters musical territories from post dubstep, to stripped down hip hop production, to melodies and bassline composed on synthesizers. If that wasn’t enough it’s up for free download. For a preview you can visit the Jus Like Music soundcloud here: http://soundcloud.com/juslikemusic/jimmy-flamante-hipbeats-vol

Wriggly Scott Leading up to the release of his next EP, Dubai-based hip hop producer Wriggly Scott (aka DJ Solo) has been releasing one free track every month. Previous tracks include the politically-charged ‘Twilight Empires’ ft. Jibberish and Latin influenced ‘Brainchild’ ft. Feras Ibrahim and Sofia Portanet. This month he’s releasing not one, but two instrumental tracks including his first ever solo music video in collaboration with Ghayyan Al Amine of Shortfuse Film, a Beirut-based collective of filmmakers. The piece addresses death, decay, war, cults, amongst other topics that are often overlooked in more mainstream music. The video will be released on Friday November 18th, and the music will be available for free download via www.anothermusic.bandcamp.com

news&products find them in

Razor Ground Force Drifter Yas Marina Circuit isn’t the only place where Drift superstars are born in the UAE. Now you can stuff your child (or yourself, if physically possible) in these little awesome contraptions and ride it all the way to your NASCAR/ F1 dreams. This steelframed, rechargeable battery-operated go-kart lets kids zip through the neighborhood at speeds of up to 12 mph. Just make sure the seatbelts are on!

Fanny Wang Over the Ear DJ Headphones Yes, you read that right. These 50mm Titanium Dual Plated Drivers that deliver the purest sound reproduction are called ‘Fanny Wang’ Headphones. Dance and spin from the studio to the club or better yet bring the cool club moves to the comfort of your own bedroom!

The Spooner Book of the Month Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi Forget love-crazed suicidal Juliette of the past and say hello to a much better one! In the first book of Tahereh Mafi’s riveting dystopian trilogy, this Juliette has the power to kill with a single touch. It’s a story of an unintentional femme fatale situated in a dying world filled with oppression, terror and deprivation. Top it all of with love story plots and you have got yourself a killer book to read!

JCB Tradesman If you are one of those intense people that find their selves in the most unconventional/ unforgiving environments or just plain clumsy then here is a gadget that can keep up with you! Bid farewell to dumb and smart phones that just don’t quite cut it in durability and say hello to the JCB Tradesman, dubbed as the “world’s first floating phone.” Crazy mountain-hiking, deepsea-diving folks do take note!

Don’t let the name fool you, this little device is no mundane eating tool! The Spooner is a surf, skate, snow and sand board simulator replicating all your favourite board sports in any location and on any surface – safely. So from now on, bruising and scratching is not required to be cool!

iCade iPad Arcade Cabinet by iON Retro, hipster, oldskool – whatever you want to call it, you can’t deny the merrymaking that is possible with this little fun monster. For those who love the classic gaming experience and ready to “insert coin” then game on!

DESIGN

WHEN A HARDCORE DYLAN FAN SAYS MASHROU’ LEILA IS A BETTER GIG THAN BOB, YOU PAY ATTENTION. THE LEBANESE BAND PLAYED IN PARADISO (AMSTERDAM) TONIGHT. IT WAS AFTER A DAY OF ART GALLERIES, POSTMODERNISM, SHOPPING, LATEX AND LEATHER, MOROCCAN FOOD, AND JIMMY WOO COCKTAILS, WHEN YOUTUBE STILL MADE THE TOP OF THE LIST WITH RAKSIT LEILA PLAYING ALONGSIDE SHIM EL YASMINE AS WE WALKED HOME. A NIGHT TO REMEMBER.

accept postmodernity as a state of being to a point of being unaware of it. But it surrounds us. It does. Beyond sight, it lives among and around us. It’s madness at its best. How? I saw a human head carved out of wood in a way that made it almost real, although it looked anything but. I witnessed the beauty of Harland Philip’s Penguin Books series of ironic statements on literature and thought. I sat there, absorbing the intensity of early twentieth century African art, as consumed by the surrealists of the time, in a setting so unreal it couldn’t have been intentional. I stared at images and photographs from a world long forgotten. I stared at other images and photographs from a world long ignored. I found solace in the scribbles of a 76 year old British painter who only recently found recognition among her peers.

But that’s not what this is about. I did a lot today - tonight. There’s an exhibit going on in London about postmodernism and postmodernity this month (read Rick Poynor’s article on the Design Observer site) that elaborates on the state of design and today’s approach to human thought and observation (repeating myself?). Our addiction, as the youth of the 21st century, to postmodernity (not just the ism) goes beyond the surface, beyond conformity to obstructionism and consumerism. We have grown to unknowingly

But it was Beirut’s grandest band - no, musicians - who touched me. And it got me thinking. What was it all about? How could a sound betray so much more emotion than videos and paintings and photographs and collages ever would. It’s astounding, unreasonable, inexplicable, that it would get to here.

That’s when I reconsidered that exhibit in London, the statement the curators are trying to make with their display of album art, magazine covers, and other graphic elements (and non-graphic) that to some are memories and to others philosophies. It got me thinking of my first introduction to postmodern theory and, later, modernism. It came naturally to me, as it did to many of my generation. There was no struggle to twist the mind and re-evaluate what we had been taught. This (these) was no foreign principle, no strange attitude. It was ingrained in us by society. I’m not sure if the exhibitors at the V&A are trying to make the same point I am, or are aware of the innateness of postmodernity in the new youth. I’m not even certain that the innateness I am referring to does actually exist among a sizeable portion of the worldwide population. What I do realise is that postmodernity has shifted from being a methodology to becoming a state; we no longer ‘understand’ it, we now simply participate in it, experience it, and be. That change in presence and stance is possibly what Poynor missed. He describes a postmodernity that is without really getting to the root of its presence.

Roland Barthes described a post-structuralist activity. Derrida proposed an observation of difference. Jameson elaborated on a culture. It was always about being, not simply thinking. Just as Marx proposed a communism that was misinterpreted or misapplied, postmodernism is at risk of being missed.Or was. There is no greater presence of it than the fact that we see it all around us, like my day of art and music, we live every moment of it, and yet we don’t give it the name we all know it has. That concert was more exciting than all the others because that band has no qualms defining itself for what it is: a postmodern creation developed by a number of designers (and architects) that takes pride in its collages, medleys, and adaptations, incorporating them into their own context and constructing socio-political spheres for them to prove to themselves and their surroundings that they are what they say they are. That is postmodernity, and it seems to always fall just under the radar.

DESIGN ANDREW GARETH YOUNG

F E AT U R E D A R T I S T

INTERVIEW BY SAMAR ALKHUDHAIRI

Andrew Gareth Young is a Canadian artist based in Vancouver. His work focuses on lost and found adolescence. He describes his work as “Spontaneous in some parts and carefully designed in others; my explorative compositions are the backbone to the figurative rendering. The result is sporadic abstraction paired with hyperrealism. My technical focus is to illuminate subjects with areas of saturated clarity, while obscuring them with textures of the known and discovered. The work blends the authentic with the abstract in order to form a relationship between the figure and the intangible— between order and chaos.”

Let’s start with the basics…. Do you prefer people to call you Andrew, or Drew? Pretty solid either way. Friends from school called me Drew and up til then only family did that so I find it sort of endearing. Cute right? What’s your story? Where are you from? Where did you grow up? When did you start painting? How did you start painting? Did you go to art school? Yikes, a half interview in a single question. I’m living in Vancouver BC, Canada. More specifically, in the colourful downtown eastside of Van. But I didn’t do any growing up here. I am originally from Vancouver Island off the coast from here, deeming me to be a naive, tree-climbing, personable, man who will always be a boy. A Manboy. That said I grew up in a cul-de-sac in Swart Bay, teasing girls, burning shit, bagging myself on bike jumps and really pissing off my mom. Are you a full time artist? Yeah full time artist, then back-back at Cobalt bar on the weekends. I’ve just recently started curating the wall space there as well. It’s wall space for pretty much anyone for zero commission. Our first show had a ton of artwork, hung salon-style, from some crazy emerging talent and a few old-schoolers and I was somewhere in there too.

DESIGN ANDREW GARETH YOUNG

F E AT U R E D A R T I S T

Did you study art? What steps did you take to establish yourself as an artist? Any pro-tips you could pass out to our readers? I didn’t graduate with a degree in anything. I got a diploma in everything, except web. Curses to the code business. Granted my so-called multi-faceted-ness allowed me obtain a few miscellaneous jobs to get me going/eating/paying rent. By the time I had graduated I had shown work in a few places in town and elsewhere and built some solid relationships with people whom helped me out a lot. On graduation day I’m realizing the leverage had by some of the people I had help me. Network, network, network, what’s that? It’s not always been the people I personally knew either. Taking advantage of art and illustration websites and blogs has definitely been a benefactor in producing some presence. But at this point one must always have at least a small cache of possible cold-calls.

later worked in with oils. Here, everything is a loose representation of my image. A lot of linear abstraction and over-saturated colour washes are pretty consistent with most of my images. I’ll stop when I feel the prep isn’t too worked/rendered. Here I’ll post-up for a few days tightly rendering figures, environments and elements of interest. I’m always looking for relationships between the surface prep and potential areas to oil paint. If they’re similar I’ll overlook rendering it and rely on the surface. Here the figure is bound with the abstract. Do you prefer painting in silence, or do you jam out in your studio? Mornings: Mellowish/hip hop. After that: Anything goes, but I am a bit of an electro whore. So probably pretty jammed out. Who are your go-to bands?

Your paintings focus around lost and found adolescences, you say “we are lost in our self-indulgent primal behavior, forgoing the morals and values our parents have instilled in us.” Do you feel as though this is the general consensus of adolescences today? Do you ever feel like focusing on adolescents ever cloud your current life stages’ experiences? That’s too big a generalization. There isn’t any clouding just maybe a gained level of consciousness during the present. I am young so I don’t think there’s any disconnect there either. I personally love the way your paintings are lit. I took a painting class a while back, lighting was the hardest thing for me to understand. Do you have any suggestions for those of us who are terrible at painting? Any cool exercises that helped you acquire the lighting skills? Well, I work with reference photography. So during the photoshoot I’ll use a couple halogen lights on stands and maybe a bounce or two. Sometimes the environment my subject is shot in will have some pretty unique stuff going on light-wise. If needed I’ll set halogens up to embellish what’s already there. Most shots operate under a solid spot with a soft light somewhere making it somewhat chiaroscuroish. Exercises?!? I was given my camera and told to gothe end of my photography education. That’s half true actually I had some huge help from John Lau with my production photography in school. Design mock-ups are tedious and require a lot of attention to detail and an acute sense of light balance. Like my paintings I’d run into projects throwing shit together with hopes things can be refined later. It’s a different beast however. What’s your creative process? Do you use still life models? Photographs? Or just the inner workings of your consciousness? I keep my mind open to situations I’m in. I listen to stories. I find things and find myself in places. I’ll come across something that I connect with and that I feel other will too. We’re living in a crazy generation. The images I choose paint reflect the destructive, selfindulgent, in-the-moment, the now now, the me me. It focuses on our ability to control our current state. Often my friends are casted for shoots. They do it for free and they don’t complain. Surface prep starts with a linear and washes are applied. I’ll integrate found/bought papers that suit colours and tones to be

Most recent in my Itunes: Tanlines, Feed Me, Bonobo, Dj Shadow, Pretty Lights, BearBot, Bag Raiders, Humans, Com Truise, Dirty Ghosts, Andrew Weatherall, Miami Horror, Paper Diamond, Prison Garde, Mylo, LongWalkShortDock, Dj Krush, Small Black, Toro y Moi, Tame Impala, Neon Indian, Washed Out. Do you remember your first attempt at painting? Were you terrified at what you had created? Or content with your masterpiece? I think I was 6 or 7. It was with one of those ghetto 10 colour watercolour palette puck things. Flowers in a terracotta pot. I remember adding some shadow to the side of the pot, which made it “3D”. Of course I did it backwards so it sucked ass. But it was saved by Dad’s advice. Pretty sure he just did it actually. Gave it to my grandparents, they were stoked and still have it. Who are some of your favorite artists? Perin Mahler, Julian Spianti, Malcolm Liepke, Ian Francis, Jaybo, Ensoe, Sueme, Roids, Julian Callos, Jeff Wall, Ben Tour, Jeremy Geddes, Jenny Saville, Frank Stockton, Tomer Hanuka, Sam Weber, Jillian Tamaki. Do you feel like there are some things you still need to work on as a painter? If so, what? Everything. I’ve been digging in some watercolours lately so that’s nice. There is no end to it, it’s just evolving right..? I’ll be doing some collaborative stuff soon with some people and for that I need to work very fragmented. So the real answer for now must be: restraint. Do you have any advice for aspiring painters? Make a thing. Then go and make another thing. Don’t think about that first thing, be thinking of your third or fourth thing. Website: http://dyoung.co/ Blog: http://hedrew.blogspot.com/

DESIGN ANDREW GARETH YOUNG

ANDREW GARETH YOUNG

DESIGN ANDREW GARETH YOUNG

DESIGN WOODCUM

Philipp, also known as Woodcum, is a student from Moscow who proclaims art as his hobby. Although we believe he’s being far too modest. His work has made it’s way round the mighty internet, popping up on our radars numerous times before we connected the dots and realised that all this work was coming from the same guy. Considering he’s only been an “amateur” artist for around 2 or 3 years (he can’t remember), this is quite the accomplishment.

We pondered whether it was difficult for him to pursue his art alongside a gruelling class schedule. His straightforward answer: “No. It’s my hobby. Everyone has a hobby, and I don’t think that anybody would say something like ‘I don’t like to do what I like to do because I study economics.’” When not studying or creating brilliant pieces of art Philipp enjoys the company of his bed as well as doing nothing.

What caught our eyes specifically were Philipp’s incredible collages and photomontages, which he creates in Photoshop after scouring the internet and his own archives for images. For his brilliant illustrations he uses pens, paper, and watercolours.

We pressed on with a curious question about where his interest in art started. And we certainly were not prepared for this answer: “It was in kindergarten. I painted trees on a pillow with blood from my nose, because I could not sleep and I had problems with blood vessels.” By this point we weren’t sure if he was taking the piss or genuinely one of those people who shock you into nervous laughter with blunt and peculiar statements.

We checked out the artists he mentions inspire and influence him (Arturo Herman Medrano flickr.com/photos/convulsive and Dmitry Maksimov tebe-interesno.livejournal.com) to try and get a better understanding of where Philipp is coming from, creatively. We were met with images of despair, fear, eerie quiet, and many that are beautifully strange. Curiosity peaked, we wonder, who is this man of so few words, who creates work that speaks volumes? More than a tad unusual, (and that’s meant as a compliment), Philipp’s interesting character came through as we attempted to pick his brain. Woodcum, his artist name, apparently resulted from a hilarious realisation that his English teacher’s repetition of “would come” a hundred times during class sounded quite similar to “wood cum”. And so a prodigy was named.

But his final words left us with a lasting impression of a person who does not let the admiration go to his head, and who still sees room for improvement in work that is blowing others away. When asked if he’s pursue a career in art, build an online portfolio, or sell prints, Philipp simply answered: “There are too many great artists who sell awesome prints. I don’t think that it’s necessary. Maybe I will when I do something really good.” We’ll leave you to judge. Check out more of his work at: flickr.com/photos/woodcum and woodcum.livejournal.com

DESIGN WOODCUM

DESIGN & PHOTOGRAPHY MATT WISNIEWSKI

MATT WISNIEWSKI IS “THAT” GUY WHO DEVELOPS OUR INTERWEBZ - UNLEASHING REALLY COOL APPLICATIONS UPON THE WORLD SUCH AS WWW.ISITON.INFO/. HE’S ALSO A VERY TALENTED, SELF- TAUGHT ARTIST. MATT RELIES ON COMPUTER SCIENCE AS A CAREER PATH BUT ART HAS ALWAYS BEEN ONE OF HIS HOBBIES. HE’S BEEN INVOLVED WITH VARIOUS ARTISTIC MEDIA THROUGHOUT HIS LIFE AND RECENTLY BEGAN COLLAGING TO MAKE USE OF IMAGES COLLECTED FROM VARIOUS ART BLOGS. MATT BRINGS ANOTHER DIMENSION OF IMAGINATION TO PHOTOGRAPHS BY PIECING TOGETHER IMAGES ONTO THE SURFACE OF THE SUBJECTS WITHIN THE PHOTOGRAPHS, THUS CREATING A NEW STORY. HIS CAREFUL CHOICE OF PATTERN, COLOR, AND VALUE PLACEMENT MAINTAIN THE 3 DIMENSIONAL ASPECT OF THE PHOTOGRAPH AND IT’S THIS COLLISION OF PHOTOGRAPHY AND COLLAGE THAT RESULTS IN SOME TRULY BREATHTAKING IMAGES THAT LEAVE THE VIEWER INTRIGUED .

So you’re a web developer huh? Tell us more about what it is you “make work” on the interwebz? Right now I’m working for a company that does a number of things but our main application is PrankDial, a site for making prank calls. I also make a lot of little useful applications (mostly for myself but I keep them public for anyone to use) including one that sends email notifications if new episodes of a TV show are or are not airing and another to quickly bookmark media on the web. What are the names of your applications? I’d love to check them out. Is it on? (http://isiton.info/) is the TV one and SSSSAVE (http://ssssave.com/) is the other. When did you start dabbling in art? Or has art always been there, but web developing is what you chose to pursue a career in? Art has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, but I only really enjoy creative work which I can’t support myself with. Web development is something where I can work for someone else and still enjoy it.

Are you a self- taught artist? How did you begin teaching yourself? Was it one of those long-term hobbies or did you wake up one day with a calling from the universe? Where did you go to learn? Any recommendations on websites/blogs/books/people’s brains we should try to soak up ? Yes, although I’ve learned from a number of people over the years so I’d say I’m more community-taught. I can’t recall where my interest in art began but I know I first used Photoshop to ink and color my drawings. I went online to learn. There isn’t a specific community for art as a whole that I can recommend. Seek out work you enjoy, surround yourself with creative people and don’t hesitate to interact with those you look up to. I’m still stuck on the web developer career as well – how did you get into that? The same way I got into art. I was interested in it so I researched it online. It’s a great feeling to be able to think of something that will save me time and then go ahead and build it as soon as the idea strikes me.

DESIGN & PHOTOGRAPHY MATT WISNIEWSKI

Ever have phases where you feel like you can’t seem to create anything good enough? No. I’m more interested in the act of creating. The end result is a bonus. If it’s not impressive I’m not bothered.

I usually open a few portraits I’d like to work with and do very quick overlays of textures. Once I find a combination that catches my eye I spend more time cleaning it up. This mainly consists of painting on layer masks or between layers to hide sections of the portrait.

What do you do to get past the “block”? Keep working. It doesn’t matter if you’re making terrible work as long as you don’t stop. Once you lose that inertia it can be hard to get it back. Do you shoot these images and then collage them or are most of your images found images? Most of them are found. It’s tough to find the time to be a talented photographer as well although I’d like to get there are some point. Lately I’ve been working with photographers directly. If they’re found images where do you typically find these images? Can you tell us a little bit about how it works when it comes to the image rights and exhibiting your work with these other images being a part of your work? I browse art blogs. My collage resulted from a desire to make use of the time I spent doing so. I still don’t know the legal details. It’s a gray area. For the most part it’s not even an issue since great photographers don’t typically leave high res copies of their work for anyone to take. Lately I’ve been contacting photographers and getting permission to use their work. Perhaps you can walk us through your process? Maybe tell us more about your technique?

So you live in Brooklyn eh? Do you absolutely love it? Is it as inspiring and fabulous as everyone makes it out to be to live in Brooklyn? I do. It’s more the concentration of creative people than the place itself that’s impressive. If you’re looking to be inspired the opportunity is there. What’s the art scene really like over there? Or are you more of an interweb art scene kinda guy? I can’t really say I’m that involved beyond enjoying it from an outside perspective although that might change in the future. There’s some good art and there’s some rubbish. There’s a lot more of it too so that results in diversity. What are your plans for the future? Do you see yourself balancing being an artist and web developer or leaning on one career path more than the other? It would be nice if I got some exhibitions and if my personal web work provided me with a noticeable income. I don’t see any reason to choose one or the other. I’ll keep doing both and likely other things as well.

DESIGN & PHOTOGRAPHY MATT WISNIEWSKI

PHOTOGRAPHY LUCY RICE

Meet New Zealand based fashion photographer Lucy Rice, a graduate from ELAM School of Fine Arts, who then travelled the world to do what she loves most… “Spontaneity and atmosphere…I want to capture the moment and all the elements…every little emotion and beauty, big or small. That’s what photography is about, capturing the people and the world around you and being truthful to your subject…and loving life!”

PHOTOGRAPHY LUCY RICE

How does it feel to be one of New Zealand’s most talented upcoming fashion and documentary photographers? Well thanks, it definitely has its exciting moments- like being featured in quint Magazine! I’m very lucky that I can do what I do and be creative. There’s a lot of other great up and coming photographers from New Zealand, so it’s just great to be a part of. When did your love for photography develop? A big moment was when I was 15yrs old in high school , I had to select subjects at the start of the year. I remember really wanting to do Photography but it clashed with my Mathematic subject. I walked into that Math’s class the first day and walked straight back out and signed up for Photography! I loved it. I’m hopeless at Math’s (and still am) but I’m glad I went with my gut feeling and I have never regretted that decision since! Where are you from? Little old town called New Plymouth on the mighty west coast of New Zealand. After ELAM School of Fine Arts, you just packed your bags and moved to Japan. Sounds pretty spontaneous, what made you decide to go to Japan? Were you nervous to just dash out of New Zealand? Not at all! I couldn’t wait to get out of New Zealand! I hadn’t done any travel and was desperate for a change. I have for a long time had links to Asia in general and when the last minute opportunity came up to go to Japan, I jumped at the chance. How long did you live in Japan? One year- not long enough. I would go back in a second if I could. How was the transition as a photographer? Were you shooting fashion photography? How did you manage to work around the language barrier or do you know how to speak Japanese? My transition was quite slow actually. I saved up enough money to buy my first decent camera. I lived in Kyoto, which is hugely rich in culture and spent my time just documenting life there. I would often get the train ride to Osaka on the weekend which is like the funkier little brother of the big bad Tokyo! The kids there are so out-there. I would photograph street fashion and crazy characters, just soaking it all in. Japan was just so amazing and I can’t wait to go back, and no I didn’t know Japanese, although I did manage to get by with a few words stringed together and some very big hand gestures! How does the art scene in Japan differ from the art scene in New Zealand? The art scene is quite different! I think New Zealand - being a relatively young country compared to Japan- means we are quite innovative in our thinking yet lack that history. I think in Japan there is more of an extreme polar-opposite. You get the very traditional art galleries and then you get the outrageous under ground art scene; crazy nightlife, bizarre animal themed bars, Banksy-style street art, multi-coloured hair-dos and a street of neon lights that would power the whole of New Zealand for ten years! But I think New Zealand artists are world class and can run with the best of ‘em.

PHOTOGRAPHY LUCY RICE

What was photographing for a humanitarian organization in Nepal like? Amazing. One of the best and most rewarding assignments I have ever done and I can’t wait to go back and do more. Nepal is beautiful, and the children are just delicious. I figure if you have a skill at something, you have to make it benefit and help others somehow, in some way… the world could do with more love. How did you end up in India and the Philippines? Were you only shooting documentary photography? I went to the Philippines, Nepal and India straight after living in Japan. I have a very large extended family in the Philippines who I stayed with in Davao. I guess I just had the travel bug (and still do!). I shot purely Documentary photography during that time traveling, writing travel articles for a magazine and newspaper back home. How was the transition moving back to New Zealand and reintegrating back into the art scene? It was definitely hard to come back to New Zealand, but it has been good to get my business up and running, meet creative people, work and all that jazz. I feel I have come a long way since I first started out and have built up a ‘style’ as a photographer- which I never used to have at art school and would get so frustrated!), so I’m very happy. What does a typical week in the life of Lucy consist of? Emailing/ Google hoping/ Researching Photographers/ Buying flowers/ Emailing/ Blogging/ Planning shoots and/or doing a shoot/ Emailing/ Local sunday markets/ Editing Photos/ Drinking strong coffee/ Day dreaming/ Walking/ Reading magazines/ Emailing/ Facebooking/ Watching cooking shows / Sleep. What is your creative process for documentary photography? Fashion photography? I wouldn’t call it a process so much as a mixed bag of little ideas that somehow come together! I generally have a colour palette, style, look and feel of what I want to photograph. I tend to research or take note of what I like and what other contemporary photographers I like are doing, and merge it all together. I look at magazines, blogs, photo-streams and books for inspiration. I just shoot what I find interesting, beautiful or what I think someone else would be inspired and excited to see. One small idea can become a beautiful thing!

What are your thoughts on digital versus analogue? What kind of camera do you shoot with? I’m a Canon girl! I love film because it brings back memories playing with my dad’s old Fujica Camera, plus it’s just plain fun to use film, that tangible product in the end is something you can’t ever replace. In a professional point of view though, Digital is just the way forward and the possibilities are endless. What inspired you to do this particular shoot? I really wanted to do something fresh and ‘spring/summer’ inspired. I’ve been wanting to do a shoot on the west coast beach for a long time. I grew up on that (black sand) beach, getting covered in it on long hot days. I guess I love being inspired by fond memories from my childhood, and I think this shoot conveyed a feeling of lazy, timeless dreamy state of mind we all get when we were young with no cares in the world, just living in the moment. The west coast itself is an inspiration in itself- wild, rugged and powerful. You mention that spontaneity and atmosphere play a huge part in your photography. You want to capture the moment and all the elements, keeping real to the subject you’re shooting. How do you manage to foster the environment you want to be projected in your image while keeping things real to the subject when it comes to a fashion shoot? I’m kind of like a box of chocolates, “you never know what your gonna get” (well, kind of!) I allow spontaneity to happen on my shoots. Like on this last shoot, there were literally four seasons in one day. It hailed on the way to the location and if I were anyone sane I would of cancelled the shoot the day before when the weather forecast predicted ‘Heavy rain, hail and strong wind’. But I love the unknown- it pushes you out of your comfort zone when your faced with “hmmm …how to I tackle this scenario!?” But it’s not just me who makes it happen, I have some amazing creative people who love what they do that help out. I try to make the model (or person) just relax and be comfortable, because the more that person can relax the more they can just be themselves and that’s when you get the great shots. Perhaps that’s the doco side of my style coming out- I don’t like anything too forced. That alongside a good model and a bit of luck, it usually makes for a fun day out with Lucy! What do you do when you have a creative block? Go for a very long walk. What inspires you? Day dreaming and cooking shows. The mind is a wonderful thing …and so is yummy food. Who are some of your favorite fashion photographers? For the ‘Theatrical’ style : Tim Burton, Tim Walker, Akif Hakan. For ‘Street/Doco’ style: Scott Schuman (Sartorialist), Shoichi Aoki

To view more of Lucy’s work visit www.lucyricephotography.com To stay up to date with Lucy check out her blog at http://lamingtonlucy.blogspot.com

PHOTOGRAPHY LUCY RICE

PHOTOGRAPHY CHRIS DAVIS

ASHLEY CADZOW

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PHOTOGRAPHY CHRIS DAVIS

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Your new photo shoot, “JUMP” looks fantastic! Where did your

really start in a particular medium; I used to love experimenting with

idea for the shoot come from?

everything. I think the first time photography really clicked (no pun intended) for me, was when I started taking photos at my own house

Thank you! Jordan was amazing to work with. The shoot idea came off

parties when I was studying at university - anyone thinks they can

the back of some test shoots I did in NYC last December on a SoHo

model after enough vodka, haha. It was fun and free and gave me

rooftop overlooking the city. I was amazed by the urban landscape in NY

the opportunity to really play around with capturing people and the

and loved mixing the energy of the dancer with the urban backdrop, I

atmosphere. It grew from there, taking more and more portraits, which I

wondered if I could pull some of that from my own city, Newcastle. So the

loved, I just love working with people, and then wanting to capture more

idea was to find a few iconic, and a few fresh, places to have the model

unique and beautiful faces led me to scouting my own models. That

airborne in, and as Jordan was needing a dance folio shoot, it gave me

helped build my folio, and it has just carried on from there. I still try

the perfect opportunity to set the shoot up, using Jordan’s dance skills to

and create that fun atmosphere on the set today, I always play music in

have him literally floating in the landscape. It ended up being my most

the background to inspire me, sometimes going as far as hiring a DJ for

successful shoot to date.

bigger shoots.

A lot of the models you shoot are quite defined, what type of

Where do you prefer to shoot: The UK or New York?

models do you like to shoot? It depends on the shoot really, the UK has some amazing models, I think it’s just a general trait of fashion models; they are often quite

creative teams, and studios, but location-wise, I adore New York. There

lean, which makes them more defined. I love the unusual. If someone

is nowhere like it on the planet, I could never get bored of that skyline,

stands out from the crowd and has something different about them, I’m

and there is an energy and atmosphere there that is addictive. I have

automatically drawn to them. I’ve ended up scouting a few of my own

already planned out my next shoots there.

models this way. I also like shooting athletic bodies, there is something beautiful about the human body when its being pushed to a higher level,

You also have your “Autumn in New York” exhibition as well as

naturally though, it can be pushed too far.

the book. Why did you choose New York City?

We love the fact that most of your work is black and white with

The exhibition came from my second trip to New York, it was something

the occasional shock of color! Have you always shot this way?

that just materialized rather than being planned out in advance. I wanted to try and capture the feel of the city, to get across that the people make

I love the simplicity of it, I feel that taking away the colour brings more

it what it is as much as the architecture. And Halloween was the perfect

attention to the subject, the scene, etc, and can carry more of an impact.

time to show some of the energy, creativity, and passion in the city. I had

It depends on the shoot though. I do love using colour, and will be doing

an amazing time shooting and met some great people.

more colour work in the future I’m sure, but I feel I still have room to explore in the monochrome world.

Is there anywhere specific you would like to shoot, but haven’t yet?

When did you find your passion for photography and where

Lots of places, I love to travel. I’d really like to shoot in Prague and Paris,

does your inspiration sprout from?

there’s some amazing architecture there. I will possibly head to Paris in a few months to set up some shoots.

I’ve always been creative. My father is an artist and a lecturer, so I grew up surrounded by art, art students, and creative people. I didn’t

PHOTOGRAPHY CHRIS DAVIS

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FILM

So I have returned after a lengthy prolonged absence, an absence almost as long as the title of this artirant* but not quite. There have been reasons a plenty for this forced sabbatical, which I shall spare you from, however it feels good to be back to quint. Unfortunately my last two months have been professionally demanding and hectic, more in the vein of producing content than consuming content. Therefore I am slightly bereft of a temporally relevant rant worthy of my return. That is not to say that I have nothing to rant about, but this will be more a rant across generalities than one with a specific subject matter. As I mentioned earlier I haven’t had the chance to watch many films in the last two months, which has been more than frustrating, but I have offset this by plying myself with a large dose of gigs, however I do not intend to step on Mo’s giant appendages. I did however make one trip to the BFI where I watched Nicholas Ray’s fantastic and dark In a Lonely Place starring the irrepressible man’s man Humphrey Bogart. It got me thinking about growing up in Dubai and how it was virtually impossible to access a cinematic education. The multitude of multiplexes that punctuate the city play the latest Hollywood, Bollywood, and Arabic films, but foreign films and classic films are relegated to their sparse annual appearance at the Dubai International Film Festival. Sitting at the BFI (British Film Institute) on a Sunday night watching Humphrey Bogart on the big screen had an ethereal quality, but in all honesty it was just really cool. The hall illuminated by the black and white chiaroscuro of Ray’s fantastic aesthetic was laced with a heady combination of nostalgia and freshness. The nostalgia definitely lingered around the elderly members of the audience, while some of the younger audience members were basking in the freshness of the experience. It did provide a refreshing change from Fast and the Furious 10 (unless there are more). Additionally, nothing sets a good impression on a date than a classic black and white film; it speaks volumes of how cultured you are. Well at least, that was the thought process of some of the young men entertaining young ladies in the audience. As for the cinephiles in the audience, it was a chance to experience classic cinema the way it was intended in the cinema - and not in high definition or on a DVD. Call me dated and old fashioned, but I still enjoy the physical experience associated with going to the cinema (mind out of the gutter please, thanks!). This is why I think Dubai would benefit from having the powers that be dedicating one cinema hall in each multiplex to classic films. The benefits are quite obvious so this is where I will end the article. I bid thee adieu. Till next month. But, just in case the benefits are not as plain as the day is opposite to night, then allow me to highlight them. Some like it Hot. Cultural sensitivity is a tenuous and valid concern; hence the inconsistent dribble of foreign films due to their risqué nature and controversial subject matter, most of the time. However with Classic Hollywood fears can be allayed because Classic Hollywood was even more puritanical in their value system. No screen kiss could last more than five seconds and if you notice the open mouth kiss (the way the French intended it, vive la France) enjoyed no screen time till the 60s. There was never any nudity - not that anyone would like to see Edward G Robinson in all his glory. Quite simply there would be unprecedented access without any restrictions due to cultural sensitivity.

The Graduate. The aforementioned lack of cultural literacy amongst the majority of the population in Dubai cannot be chalked down to the lack of interest or the interest to consume content but a distinct lack of access. Critics of Dubai can argue that the majority of the population in Dubai are expatriates and hail from countries that enjoy a certain level of cinematic diversity, so there is no valid reason why there is this dearth of eclectic cinematic content. To them I say that is a different discussion for a different magazine (which one? Je ne sais). Moving on, people in general can only spend their weekend being

assaulted by the latest Michael Bay, or another reminder why no one should ever stay in a European Hostel. Which (he murmurs through clenched teeth and types with clenched fists, hence the delay in submission) is fine, but I strongly believe that people that have not had the privilege to experience Gone with the Wind or Lang’s Metropolis in the cinema should be given the opportunity to do so. Fritz Lang’s 1927 masterpiece would be a thought provoking and appropriate film to play in Dubai for numerous reasons. There are a lot of parallels and themes in that seminal film that could provoke dialogue or, lord forbid, thought. On a more functional level it highlights the early mastery and experimentation of cinematic craft and technique, which can do nothing but inspire budding film talent. If you want to avoid controversy and antagonizing the local authorities altogether then why not screen a Chaplin or Keaton retrospective? There is no difference between an animated cat falling over and Charlie Chaplin falling, children are all sadistic when it comes to the misfortune of others. They do not discriminate they just want to see someone get hurt.

What’s that? What motivation would cinema owners and distributors have from screening old films? Translation: How would they financially benefit? Cinematic reference translation: Show me the Money. I can’t hear you, say it again: SHOW ME THE MONEY! There is no need to yell, I can hear you adequately. Unfortunately, I was in the midst of applying the finishing touches to a comprehensive CBA (Cost Benefit Analysis) for cinema vendors in Dubai, it had pie charts, bar graphs and something called statistics as well, but then power went out and I lost it all so here is the censored or culturally appropriate version: Cinema 8 + one Week of Gone with The Wind + quint’s free promotion/publicity = more money than a sub-par Steven Segal film. If anyone tells me that one week of playing a classic Hollywood film does not generate as much money as a Steven Segal film being shown in Cinema 8 then we as a society and a generation have a much bigger problem. I refuse to believe that there is not a group of people out there who would not enjoy watching Lawrence of Arabia or Spartacus on the big screen. I know for a fact that there is a willing population out there who are starved for some classic Hollywood goodness. How do I know this? Four letters... and they’re not the four letters that you are anticipating... wait for it… DIFF. Having been a regular at DIFF over the years I know there is a willing, cinematically literate audience out there who would jump at the opportunity to be given some respite from the mindless drivel that Hollywood is churning out. YES IT IS DRIVEL! My belief is unwavering to the point that I am sure that if any cinema in the Dubai was willing to give us at quint one of their medium sized or smallest cinemas, and quint was allowed to run retrospectives, we would be able to guarantee a good turnout. Cinema Vendors hear my call, if you are afraid that the financial benefits do not outweigh the costs then you wouldn’t even have to play the film for a week. Play it for a weekend or a few shows. The benefits to the community of Dubai, society, the budding film industry as well as increasing Dubai’s status as a cultural hub are immeasurable. No harm can come of this, and you would be giving Dubai the gift of the Golden Age of Cinema. Why limit it to Hollywood Classics? I am sure there would be a huge turnout for Classic Arabic films and Classic Bollywood films. Actually if you were to play the Bollywood Epic Sholay for a week in one of your cinemas you would make enough money to fund retrospectives. Though there is no money being lost here because you will be playing current Hollywood films simultaneously. I am not asking you to stop playing current Hollywood films altogether, that I will ask of you another time, all I am asking for is variety, variety that Dubai’s cinematically starved and unaware are desperately crying out for, even if they are unaware of it at this moment in time. *Prank moody is prone to making up words.

FILM

OVER 12,000 PEOPLE FLOCKED TO ABU DHABI’S CORNICHE ON NOVEMBER 4TH TO ATTEND THE FIRST SCREENING OF TROPFEST ARABIA. TROPFEST IS THE WORLD’S LARGEST SHORT FILM FESTIVAL, AND HAS HAD A SUCCESSFUL 20-YEAR HISTORY IN AUSTRALIA. TODAY, THERE ARE BRANCHES OF THE FESTIVAL IN NEW YORK, LAS VEGAS, LONDON, BERLIN, TORONTO, BANGKOK AND NOW, ABU DHABI. FROM OVER 150 SUBMISSIONS COLLECTED FROM THE MENA REGIONS, 12 FILMS WERE SHORT-LISTED AS FINALISTS TO BE SCREENED FOR A PANEL OF INDUSTRY PROFESSIONALS INCLUDING FESTIVAL FOUNDER, AND FAMOUS HOLLYWOOD DIRECTOR, JOHN POLSON, EGYPTIAN ACTOR AHMED HELMY, SAUDI ACTRESS AND DIRECTOR AHD KAMEL, LEBANESE WEB SERIES DIRECTOR AMIN DORA, SAUDI FILMMAKER MAMDOUH SALEM, EMIRATI DIRECTOR NAYLA KHAJA, TROPFEST AUSTRALIA 2011 WINNER DAMON GAMEAU AND MORE! I HAPPEN TO HAVE WRITTEN AND STARRED IN ONE OF THOSE 12 FINALIST FILMS, “AT FIRST SIGHT”. I ARRIVED WITH MY CO PRODUCER, MAGDA, AND MUSICAL COMPOSER, KHALED, AND WE WERE JOINED BY A FEW SUPPORTING FRIENDS. WE MADE OURSELVES COZY ON THE SAND, EXCITED TO SEE OUR WORK ON THE BIG SCREEN. EVERY YEAR TROPFEST RELEASES A TSI- THE TROPFEST SIGNATURE ITEM, WHICH MUST BE FEATURED IN THE SUBMITTED FILMS. THIS YEAR’S TSI WAS A STAR, AND SO ABU DHABI ORGANIZED STAR ACADEMY PERFORMANCES AS THE INTERMISSION ENTERTAINMENT. THE FIRST 6 FILMS WERE SCREENED, AND THEN OUR TEAM HAD TO PAINSTAKINGLY SIT THROUGH AN HOUR OF MUSICAL INTERLUDE BEFORE WE COULD SEE OUR FILM SPRAWLED OUT IN FRONT OF THOUSANDS TO VIEW. IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT. AMONG MANY IMPRESSIVE ANIMATIONS AND A FEW QUIRKY COMEDIES, OUR FILM WAS THE ONLY TRUE DRAMA. AFTER THE LAST FILM SCREENED, THE JUDGES GATHERED TO CHOSE THEIR FIRST, SECOND AND THIRD FAVORITE FILMS, TO BE AWARDED CASH AND RESOURCES, WHILE OUR DIRECTORS WERE BRIEFLY INTERVIEWED ONSTAGE. IN THOSE 15 MINUTES THE WHOLE PROCESS FLASHED BEFORE MY EYES:

FASHION ON THE ROAD

ON THE ROAD Photography & Art Direction: Saty + Pratha Grooming: Jun Sato Styling: Russell Philip Peek Models: Philip R, Philipp Schmidt, Reece Pitts and Richard Kranzin, NEXT London

Model: Philip R Jacket – Topman Necklace warn on wrist – Topman Belt – Levis Boots – Doc Martens

Model: Reece Pitts Denim shirt – Topman Jewelry – Model’s own

FASHION ON THE ROAD

Model: Richard Kranzin T- shirt – Levi’s

Model: Reece Pitts Denim shirt – Topman Jewelry – Model’s own

FASHION ON THE ROAD

Model: Philip Schmidt White t-shirt – Avelon Black jeans – Avelon

Model: Philip Schmidt White t-shirt – Avelon Denim shirt – Topman

FASHION ON THE ROAD

Model: Philip R Layered T-shirts â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Avelon

FASHION ON THE ROAD

Model: Philip Schmidt T-shirt â&#x20AC;&#x201C; American Apparel shirt, illustrator unknown

Model: Richard Kranzin Black t-shirt – Avelon Grey t-shirt – Mother of Pearl Jeans - Uniqlo

FASHION ON THE ROAD

Model: Philip Schmidt T-shirt – Avelon Denim shirt – Topman Jacket – Vintage

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Model: Philip R T-shirt – Topman Jeans – Levis Belt – Levis

FASHION ON THE ROAD

Model: Philip R T-shirt – Topman

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Model: Reece Pitts Jewelry â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Models own

FASHION ON THE ROAD

Model: Richard Kranzin T- shirt â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Mother of Pearl

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Model: Philip R Jacket â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Topman

FASHION ON THE ROAD

Model: Richard Kranzin T- shirt – Levi’s

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FASHION SNEAKERS OF THE MONTH

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Nike Lunarglide 3 Light and tight. These little suckers are beautiful in orange and grey, or any other colourway they got in Sun and Sands. Go into the Nike bit and pick them up. Smell them and then put them back down again. Go on. I dare you.

The Elephant Atmos

It’s taken me six years to realise it, but these are my favourites in me collezione. I love them. They were part of a pack – including the dunks with the same colourway, but the ones in the picture now cots $500 on eBay. Available in Japan only (six years ago). Sweet numbers.

Toms

These deserve a special mention, because if you buy one pair, they’ll give a child in need a pair too – for free. That’s better than any other shoe in your collection. We hope to see these around the UAE soon. www.toms.com

MUSIC

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In the journey from 2002’s dusty fourtrack confessional The Creek Drank the Cradle to this year’s exotic full-band endeavour Kiss Each Other Clean, Iron & Wine, as both a term and an entity, has very much evolved from ‘him’ to ‘them’, despite the same sort of firm protest you’ll hear from a Nine Inch Nails buff in the wake of an ‘I loved their new album’ comment from someone who should damn well know that it was the work of one man. From studio to stage, Sam Beam does not play with his toys alone any more. Iron & Wine followers have had a pretty demanding run over the past few years. Despite a long history of dressing up even his barest acoustic numbers with a touring band, and his celebrated exploration into big productions with KEOC’s precursor The Shepherd’s Dog, those who flock to see the live show have been known to leave a little disappointed at the lack of one-on-one time with Beam, and the addition of sax and synth into the latest line-up didn’t make things easier. Just as Family Guy has recently returned to cutaway overload, perhaps starting the twonight run in London with an all-acoustic show at the Hackney Empire was his response to a growing longing from his fan-base. Opening the show is Beam’s special guest, Marketa Irglova. Accompanied by a bassist and joined by the hand-drum and vocal harmonies of an unidentified sidekick at centre stage, she takes the crowd through her solo material, with all of the heart-on-sleeve sop one would expect from a Swell Season performance minus the woodchips flying from Glen Hansard’s battered sixstring. Though interesting counterpoint arises from a dual-vocal arrangement of an Iranian traditional, the performance is best summed up using words like “lovely” and “nice”. There is a distinct feeling that the vocal edge is equally appreciated when the women take backing to Sam and friends, as he

takes the stage and opens with the goto acoustic strummer from his latest album, ‘Tree By The River’. What follows is pretty much anyone’s dream-team setlist from the archives, fully validating any hopes that this show was for the seasoned fan. The soldout theatre-hall is silenced as the band pull the lights down for a hauntingly un-rushed ‘The Sea And The Rhythm’, followed by the creaking minor stomper ‘Black Candle’, and the band all take their part in making the arrangement swell like the waves spoken of in the song before. Lesser-played album numbers come throughout, such as ‘Lovesong of the Buzzard’ and ‘House By The Sea’, the lusciously-picked guitar work on the latter serving to remind us that there’s more to Beam than a pretty voice. Though he could effortlessly hold the show unaccompanied, the waves of mandolins, piano, and even sax sit well, musically speaking; the quiet fight between wooden and metallic elements for presence at the top end of the dubiously-engineered system was, however, hard to ignore. But moving on - amongst his signature murmurings of ‘thanks so much’ and ‘simmer down’, Beam’s in high spirits tonight, taking extended breaks to joke with the crowd, even comparing the dutifully hushed reception to that of the London riots, before smirking it off as a bad taste line. Along with the eerily-soaring vocal plateaus of old Cradle treats ‘Weary Memory’ and ‘Faded From the Winter’, as well as old favourites ‘Woman King’ and ‘He Lays in the Reins’, it’s as if Beam’s affording the crowd a peek through the old battered songbook he still has tucked away in his gig bag. As he encores with a requested number, lyrical epic ‘The Trapeze Swinger’, one wonders whether this was one last gift before departing down the full-band, folky freak-funk seas he’s currently navigating, though what I construe as a parting wink suggests that there’s still plenty more Beam in the box.

photo from: http://www.subpop.com/artists/iron_and_wine

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WELCOME TO THE DEEP CRATES COLUMN! WE ARE STOKED TO BE OFFICIALLY PARTNERED WITH OUR GOOD FRIENDS AT QUINT AND PLEASED TO BRING YOU A SLICE OF INSIGHT INTO GREAT MUSIC AND REAL UNDERGROUND HIP HOP CULTURE IN THE REGION EVERY MONTH. IF YOU THINK YOU DON’T LIKE HIP HOP, THERE’S PROBABLY A GOOD REASON BUT READ ON TO UNDERSTAND MORE AND PERHAPS SEE THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS FROM OUR SIDE! What is Hip Hop? Well it’s probably one of the most misrepresented and exploited terms in modern times. When most people hear the term Hip Hop it probably conjures up a horrible collage of MTV videos, bad music, autotune apocalypse, and people who don’t play sport wearing oversized basketball shirts… It’s the state of the commercial Rap/RnB industry these days. However, Hip Hop for millions of others globally is a culture, and one of the most powerful youth and adult empowerment movements in the world today - whether it’s the dance forms in breakin’, poppin’, and lockin’, or the art found in aerosol art pieces, or the spoken word/ MCing/Beatboxing, or most importantly the diverse music that is more eclectic and multi-cultural than almost every other genre. Not to mention the technical DJ skills which were invented by the culture’s pioneers and are still the cutting edge of the DJ artform. These days, and due largely to the exploitation of the commercial rap industry, the commercial end of the music has become stale, unimaginative and generally just bad - that is bad meaning bad, not bad meaning good! Few people know that Hip Hop, which is based on the artforms listed above and the principles of Peace, Unity, Love, and Having fun, is actually a culture that is officially recognized by the United Nations thanks largely to the efforts of members of the Universal Zulu Nation, the world’s largest and oldest hip hop culture organization, established in 1973. It’s a culture that’s as deep as the music that has influenced it, spanning funk, rock, Latin, reggae, psychedelic, jazz, soul, afrobeat, Brazilian, electro, world music, and countless others that are too many and diverse to list. It’s a culture at its heart based on knowledge, wisdom, and understanding. It’s about knowledge of self, of the other, of the music, of current affairs, of history and so many other things. Any real Hip Hop head will know the cultural importance of Malcolm X, Marcus Garvey, Muhammad Ali, Bruce Lee, Gandhi, and an endless list of other revolutionary and culturally relevant figures mentioned along with countless other references in the lyrics of real MCs. The movement has been going strong since 1973 where it originated in the Bronx, New York City, and from the beginning it was a means of expression for disenfranchised youth. Its creative force was unstoppable, taking musical influences from the multicultural melting pot of the city, and bringing communities and people of all ages together for block party jams. Early pioneers built their own soundsystems (similar to those in Jamaica) and threw free parties in community centers or battled each other for the crowd on the

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strength of their record collections, which they had built from their parents collections and from searching for or “digging” for the killer records that the other DJs didn’t have. The art sprung up all over the city in the form of complex calligraphy or “writing” invading every nook and cranny and making legends out of those who developed massive intricate pieces that appeared on the subway trains. The dance, “breakin”, which developed from combative forms used by street gangs, became more intricate and started incorporating influences from Kung Fu, traditional dances, gymnastics and many other styles. The MCs, originally just “masters of ceremonies” or hosts, began to create syncopated rhymes and vibing to the energy of the DJs. Today Hip Hop as a culture in its original sense is thriving and its true positive essence, vehicle for expression for disenfranchised youth, has spread worldwide giving birth to a generation who don’t relate to the materialism and corrupt values of the commercial Rap/RnB industry but instead stay much closer to the positive origins of the culture. In this region, the Middle East and North Africa, this has meant you can find youth struggling to express themselves against the authorities but finding an outlet in these artforms - from bboys in Yemen, to writers and artists in Jordan, to MCs in Egypt reflecting their changing society, to DJs and music diggers in Saudi Arabia. Wherever there are restrictions the youth always push back twice as hard to express themselves. This is no longer something that The National newspaper once described as “overtly western”. It never was. The nationalities involved at the beginning were from diverse backgrounds, and in every culture where it has been adopted by the youth it has developed its own distinct identity by fusing cultural influences. For decades now the culture has been thriving to the far reaches of Asia and incorporating more influences every year. The movement has consistently broken boundaries and unlike most other fads or sub-genres is still going strong after almost 40 years. Without a doubt it is truly Universal. If you’ve read this far, make sure you check out our Dubai-based community on the facebook group Deep Crates (www.facebook.com/ groups/deepcrates/). We run a weekly community-based night every Thursday at Casa Latina, Ibis Al Barsha Hotel, Dubai. You can also reach me personally on facebook at www.facebook.com/breakdjlobito. Get next month’s issue for more, support quint and get up, get into it and get involved!

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XOYO

London, 4th October 2011 Mohamed El Amin

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XOYO is a perfect little venue. More akin to a basement than a bombastic gig location, it’s ‘bare essentials’ look only manages to enhance the sonic attributes of the bands performing, and I can’t think of a better first time experience at the venue than SBTRKT. Having released one of 2011 best freshman’s efforts, SBTRKT, aka Aaron Jerome, is no stranger to exceptional DJing. Formerly a regular house DJ for the best club in the world (Plastic People), he displayed a unique ear when it comes to mixing and getting crowds moving. But here he has created a magnificent blending of pristine garage beats and uncanny, superior songwriting skills that display electronica in a peculiar, organic vibe. What really resonates this album above the flood of dubstep-inspired (or ‘wonky beats’ as finer music journalists are referring to it. Apparently, that’s now a genre. Wonky. Beats. Yes, I’m also facepalming) albums are the resonating guest vocals, which, while merely superficially resembling house vocals, display

enough warmth and restraint that is both welcomed and groovy (Little Dragon can sing about anything and it will sound glorious). But as good as the record is, the live show eclipses it all. Arriving on stage sporting their trademark ceremonial masks, Aaron Jerome and partner in crime/vocalist Sampha displayed that electronic styling is only second to their bright masks. SBTRKT’s show blended both electronic and drum work. As bombastic as their instrumentation was, Sampha’s vocals and stage presence cannot be emphasised enough. I know everyone is crooning over James Blake’s voice (I am too, whenever he doesn’t use that wretched auto tune), but Sampha is really on his level, if not ahead of him by a bit. His vocals lace the beats with such soulful ease and precision, exuding the shared chemistry between him and Aaron. The music is constantly infectious, causing a rabid frenzy in the crowds, so entirely adoring of the duo. And it’s entirely understandable;

SBTRKT music is chock-full of sincere emotional structures, wearing their hearts on their sleeves. The rhythmic bombardment was quadrupled as Roses Gabor joined the band on stage to perform her guest track “Pharaohs”, making the crowd ballistic. A highlight of the record for me personally, it was simply magnificent hearing a crowd of 400+ strong fans chanting the chorus with such passion. SBTRKT manages to hold back his cross genre hopping to allow his partners to paint vibrant vocals over his stripped down bass lines and keys. It’s no wonder his shows have been sold out since they were announced. His performance in March at KOKO’s next year is already sold out. Maddening hype? Yes. Justified? Damn straight. To be honest, I haven’t danced this much since seeing Jamie XX live in Barcelona. And that’s really, really saying something.

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psyched LIAM DEMAMIEL

The 13th Floor Elevators perhaps started it all. Released in 1966, their debut album The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators became the manifesto and stylistic blueprint of a slowly developing psychedelic scene. The album’s art was ethereal and its back cover carried a letter from the band exploring the concept of knowledge, declaring that ‘it has become possible for man to chemically alter his mental state and thus alter his point of view.’ The music was raw, primal even. The electric jug of Tommy Hall and the abstract vocal power of Roky Erickson melded to produce art that can only be described as otherworldly. The following year, the Elevators released the definitive psychedelic masterpiece, ‘Slip Inside This House’. Psychedelic rock had arrived. ‘Slip Inside This House’ is a truly transcendental masterwork; almost incomprehensible in theme and deceptive in it’s minimalist musical structure. Hall’s lyrics, delivered by a fervent Erickson, are as near to poetry as music can get. If your limbs begin dissolving In the water that you tread All surroundings are evolving In the stream that clears your head Find yourself a caravan Like Noah must have led And slip inside this house as you pass by. Around this time psychedelic rock started to flourish. Californian bands such as Love, Jefferson Airplane, and the Grateful Dead helped popularise the style in America, whilst the Beatles, Pink Floyd, and the Rolling Stones (whose album Their Satanic Majesties Request is an unconventional outlier on an otherwise blues-centric career) brought psychedelic music to the fore in Britain. This first cache of psychedelic music went on to influence bands such as Primal Scream (who covered ‘Slip Inside This House’ on their classic album Screamadelica) to Spacemen 3 and Echo and the Bunnymen. Successive generations of musicians have continued the tradition of incorporating psychedelic structures and themes into their music - from the nostalgic tinges of bands within the ‘neopsychedelic’ scene to the subtle nods of artists throughout the

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broader underground. The past few years have seen a greater appreciation and respect for the ‘genre’ within music, notably in the emergence of entire festivals devoted to it. Events such as Austin Psych Fest (organised by the Black Angels) and the Frisco Freakout, allow fans to come together with the bands that create the music, fostering a sense of community. ‘Its not like the sixties where everyone has a house around the corner from each other and we are all going out to the park every day to play’ says Nash Whalen, organist of San Francisco’s Wooden Shjips, when asked about the importance of such events. ‘It its hard for me to call it a scene I guess. But we do meet other bands with similar interests, and they are all just really great people. That makes me feel like I am part of not a scene, but a community of like-minded musicians that are spread across the world - it is really nice to know they are out there.’ Perhaps the most promising avenue for modern psychedelic music is not the emulation of forefathers, but its fusion with other genres. Bands such as Wooden Shjips and The Black Ryder (amongst many) employ subtle psychedelic elements as part of a broader web of sounds. ‘I don’t believe our album belongs to any one genre or theme’ says Aimee Nash of The Black Ryder, ‘but I would certainly say that artists like Spacemen 3 and Spiritualised inspired a lot of thought and care when it comes to sounds, tones, frequencies, placement, structure, and creating songs of epic proportions.’ Nash, who considers the best descriptor of The Black Ryder’s sound as ‘Rhinestone Drone’, believes that whilst there are inherent psychedelic influences to the band’s sound, it is important to take your own musical direction. ‘The best thing about writing and recording our first album was that it was something we had never done together before. It felt like a new beginning with a big blank canvas that we could do whatever we wanted to.’ Psychedelic music is broad in scope and increasingly hard to define. Classic psychedelic rock has diffused throughout the decades, helping to shape both existing and emerging genres. Looking back to the past to direct the future is something inherently psychedelic, expanding our consciousness and appreciation for what has, and is, yet to come.

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

M83 - MOON CHILD ALPINE - VILLAGES NEON INDIAN - DEADBEAT SUMMER BOY - LITTLE NUMBERS WOLF GANG - LIONS IN CAGES METRONOMY - THE BAY THE GRATES - TURN ME ON MIAMI HORROR - I LOOK TO YOU WE ARE TREES - SUNRISE SUNSET FRENCH HORN REBELLION - LAST SUMMER

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WE CAUGHT UP WITH OUR LATEST MUSICAL OBSESSION – THE INCREDIBLY TALENTED AND BEAUTIFUL GIN WIGMORE – TO PICK HER BRAIN ABOUT HER NEW ALBUM GRAVEL & WINE, ROOM SERVICE IN DUBAI, AS WELL AS HER PLANS FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE. Hey Gin! Thanks for your time, I’m sure you must be busy getting ready for the release of your new album, Gravel & Wine!

go for it. I am very strong willed about my career working in the States and I will work to the bone to achieve this, so I guess that also helps!

Yes, very busy! But I love being busy, I’d go insane otherwise!

It looks like you’ve had your fair share of travelling over the past few months! Where do you hang your hat at the end of the day though?

Your music style is so unique, we get to experience some blues, some soul and of course some rock! There’s a lot of older rock and roll essences in your music, are you a big fan of the classics?

If I’m lucky I get to hang my hat at the end of the day! But, it would be Sydney, Australia for the most part.

Huge fan of the classics. To me it seemed a lot less contrived and far more honest. Mistakes were seen as happy accidents to find a whole other way of doing something, and I really like that kind of freedom and flexibility with music.

All this travel must be hard work! But it sure as hell looks like it’s paying off! Your work has been featured in some big shows in the U.S, and most recently in the Lowes ad, Never Stop Improving. What else is on the horizon for you?

We love your look! The platinum blonde hair and the smokey eyes. How would you describe your style?

Touring, and lots of it! Hopefully I get some more fantastic syncs like the Lowes ad and TV shows as that pays the bills. But for the foreseeable future, I will be playing Gravel & Wine to the world.

Thanks! I’d describe my style as a little bit of a mystery as it rather depends on how I’m feeling each day. But I would definitely say I look up to the black wardrobe of Johnny Cash. Your first single from Gravel & Wine, “Black Sheep”, is definitely a powerful song! What can we expect from your new album? A rollicking ride of cowboy country, mariachi, longing love songs, and a pinch of old fashioned rock n roll to jump around to. As Kiwi’s, you and I both know there is some amazing musical talent in New Zealand, yet it so seldom leaves the country, which is a shame. It’s definitely a big feat that you hit the States, but why is it so rare for Kiwi artists to make it big? I am very fortunate to be surrounded by a very strong team of people who match my dedication and desire to really make something of my music. I think a lot of Kiwi artists may not have this, or even have the desire to really

So you’ve toured New Zealand, Australia and the U.S. Where do you want to go next? Has Dubai ever crossed your mind? It sure has! Staying in a fancy hotel and ordering room service while sipping expensive champagne in Dubai has also crossed my mind! Hopefully if I play a few shows over there that will all be part of the ride! What’s next for Gin Wigmore after Gravel & Wine? I can’t think that far ahead! Maybe I’ll move to Paris, drink fine red wine and write another album… You can purchase Gin’s new album Gravel & Wine from www.ginwigmore.com today!

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ON PAPER, IT’S A NOW TRADITIONAL FORMULA OF SORTS. UK CHAP, WIELDING LAPTOP, MAKING SENSATIONAL ELECTRONIC MUSIC. THERE ARE MILLIONS FOLLOWING THAT METHODOLOGY. BUT GOLD PANDA IS ANOTHER STORY ENTIRELY. Derwin Panda is for all intents and purposes, a bit of an anomaly. When Lucky Shiner was released in 2010, it was a momentous piece of electronica that was as big in sound as it was intimate and nostalgic in topic. Looking at the song titles, they are in essence a story. One exemplified by a beautiful use of loops and explosive vibe. It’s one of the most appealing aspects of Gold Panda’s music, a core of short riffs consonantly layered and merged with almost hip hop-esque beats, dazzling eastern melodies, and peculiar snippets driving the structure towards gorgeous expanses. One of my great gig/fest regrets this year was missing his set in Primavera Sound festival, which was, predictably, a crowd favorite from all that I’ve read. Luckily, an unplanned trip to London meant I would get to see him in KOKO’s (one of London’s finest venues). Arriving without a mum following a spectacular set by Nathan Fake, GP instantly began his show. As insulated as it might have seemed with GP behind the decks of his computers and wizard machines, the atmosphere was incredibly warm, thanks a great deal not just to the music and the festival lighting surrounding GP’s booth, but the wonderful visuals provided by Ronni Shendar. With every sliced sample, flickering switch, and swirling beat loop, the music resonated throughout the hall, driving everyone into a dancing frenzy as the visuals ushered lush scenery and blazing lights.

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I couldn’t help but feel in awe (in the few instances I stopped to catch my breath) of how GP’s constantly changing time signature, rumbling synth tampering, and addictive bass lines could create something so human in its core of cores. When the vocal sample of “You” began, the venue nearly broke into a full-fledged riot. Shouts, jumps, screams, and utter bliss overtook everything. And in the heart of it was GP, a driving force that couldn’t stop smiling at the madness he was unleashing in the sold out venue. As the show waned to its final moments, GP took a moment to introduce the crowd to a beaming elderly lady watching the scene unfold from her balcony booth. He called her his “Lucky Shiner” - his grandma, who the album was inspired and written for. It was a simple nod of acknowledgment that spoke bounds to the sounds GP attempted (and succeeded) to capture. It’s a rare instance of dialogue during an otherwise minimal interaction set that left a touching, lasting feeling on everyone in the venue. The show at KOKO’s was a statement that this beautiful danceyour-heart-out is not just that, but simply so much more. The arrival of a phenomenon. GP, in the span of less than 90 minutes, displayed the attributes of a performer who takes the greatest of joy in sharing his music with the world.

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Hi Gavin, for those out there who don’t know Jus Like Music can you give us a quick introduction? Jus Like Music started out as a music blog back in 2006. Back then there were no real ambitions beyond sharing musical discoveries online. Very quickly it developed a large following and a great rapport with artists, labels and promo people. Today, the blog is still going and has actually just had a revamp, plus we have a weekly radio show on London’s NTS station and we also release music under the Jus Like Music Records banner. So you write about and release music, host a radio show, are you involved in any events also? We have been, in the past. We had a big launch event in London for one of our first releases, which was a two part compilation called Oscillations. More recently we hosted a launch event for our charity release, Untold Songs, in conjunction with Amnesty International. We’ve been approached many times about running a regular night, but it takes a lot of time and dedication, which we can’t spare at the moment! How would you describe the style of music Jus Like Music promotes? Eclectic. Genuinely diverse and eclectic. We’ve always focused on a wide variety of genres and styles, for no other reason than we like a lot of different stuff. But not just any old stuff, it still has to be excellent. So, we feature anything from hip-hop to house to jazz to soul to funk, literally anything if it catches our ear. Some readers maybe unaware of the progressive hip-hop and beats movement that’s been going on over the last few years and we all have our different takes on it. Who would you say were instrumental in this evolutionary direction, and where do you see it going? A few names that spring to mind immediately are J Dilla, Madlib and Flying Lotus. They’ve had the biggest impact. Those guys are the pioneers of a very young movement, based on a variety of different origins, namely hip-hop and electronica. There’s a lot of clones out there now, and the arena is very crowded, but there are some amazing producers making moves at the moment, like Machinedrum, Hudson Mohawke, Onra, Dabrye, Jonwayne, Clams Casino, kidkanevil, Exile, Young Montana?, B. Bravo. I could go on and on, and no doubt I’ve left out loads of very talented people, but I better stop now! Are the majority of your artists also based in London? Can you tell us a bit about them?

Actually, no. The only one based in London is BUG. Paper Tiger are from Leeds, DZA is in Russia, Jesse Futerman is in Canada, both Klaar and Shankles are in Germany, Sesped and Jimmy Flamante are in Venezuela, B. Lewis is in America and Oby Nine is in the Netherlands. We’re global! As you can imagine, they’ve all got their own way of doing things, but we tend to work with people who are on a similar wavelength to ourselves, it makes things run a lot more smoothly. Apart from the artists you work with who are you listening to right now? All sorts of stuff, all of the time! I’ll limit it to what I’ve literally been listening in the past week or two; Zomby, Blue Daisy, Kuedo, Machinedrum, Zara McFarlane, Martyn, Jono McCleery, Jonti, Feist, fLako, B. Bravo, ANGO, The Weeknd, Mosca, Jacques Greene, Slim Moore and the Mar-Kays, Metronomy, Thundercat, FaltyDL. Again, I ‘ll stop now! I’d known about Jus like Music for a while but it was the Paper Tiger ‘Worldwide Takeover’ EP that really caught my attention as it just featured really diverse quality tracks. Can you tell us a bit about those guys? They’re an actual band, which is a fact I think eludes a lot of people. That was one thing we really wanted to stress in all our promo. You can listen to tracks like Worldwide Takeover – which is a laidback hip-hop track, or a track like Green Hill Zone – which is a deep dance track with two-step and dubstep elements, and not realise that it’s a band and real musicians making those sounds, and not just one guy sat in his bedroom. As you pointed out, that release had a diverse selection of sounds on it. This was to showcase what they were all about. They’ve got a lot planned for the future, so I’m sure you’ll be hearing more very soon. The Paper Tiger EP also featured a remix by BUG, whose EP ‘Mechanical Soul’ you released recently and was your first EP to hit iTunes. Can you tell us about him and what we can expect from the EP? BUG was the first artist to have a release on the label. I met him through UK rapper Ty in November 2009. We immediately got on very well and shared a lot of similar ideas. He’s an extremely talented producer who also plays the keys on all of his music. Mechanical Soul was the first properly distributed for sale release that we put out, it features BUG’s distinctive ‘head-nod’ hip-hop style over west-coast funk melodies. It’s laid-back, but it also hits really hard. BUG’s more than just an artist on our roster though, he also co-hosts The Jus Like Music Show with me each Saturday on NTS.

So, Jus Like Music is currently a netlabel selling only digital releases, but you say you have plans to distribute physical product in the form of vinyl. In your opinion does vinyl still have a place in today’s music industry? That’s correct, although most netlabels – in the traditional sense – give music away, which we did do exclusively for about our first year. Right now we operate more on a system where by we give away releases to gain exposure for new artists, and sell releases for our established artists. We think that’s the best way to work up a decent following before putting product out there for sale. 80% of all music on digital stores doesn’t get bought, after all! As for physical product, it’s long been our plan to put out vinyl, and we will do soon, but you have to be careful. There’s definitely still a place for it in the industry, but as a small label, you need to be sure that what you put out on vinyl is going to get the press it needs to ensure it sells. It’s not a cheap endeavour and most independent labels will seek to just break even on a physical release – so there is a risk involved. If you buy vinyl yourself what do you collect? Can you also give our readers some digging spots to check out in London? A couple of years ago I was absolutely hooked. I bought a lot of new vinyl every week, but I also bought old stuff. At the time I was actually living in Brisbane in Australia, so I used to go to Butter Beats for my old vinyl and Rocking Horse Records for my new stuff. Sadly Rocking Horse no longer exists, but Butter Beats is still around. As for London, well for new stuff I tend to go to Phonica in Soho and Rough Trade East on Brick Lane. Haven’t bought so much old stuff recently, but I like Sounds Of The Universe in Soho. Honest Jons is also a pretty cool spot over by Ladbroke Grove. But I cant claim to know all the proper spots, cos I’m not really a London lad, as such. More of an adopted son who’s been here a couple of years! Most of my records are still in Australia, but I hope to get them shipped over soon. Which club nights in London would you recommend? There’s usually good stuff happening at The CAMP on Old Street. Plastic People is the venue to be at – most people in London will tell you that. Four Tet has a monthly residency there, which is usually an excellent night. The Earnest Endeavours crew put on good nights, as do Tempo Clash. To be honest, London is ridiculous. There’s something amazing happening pretty much every night of the week.

LITERATURE

FARES BOUNASSIF

I WANT TO TALK ABOUT BOB DYLAN. NOT HIS MUSIC THOUGH. WELL, NOT ENTIRELY. I’D MUCH RATHER HAVE READ TARANTULA BEFORE I WROTE THIS, BUT I WON’T GET MY HANDS ON IT TILL AFTER THIS ISSUE HAS BEEN PRINTED.

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Why Bob Dylan? Because of Ginsberg. Kerouac. Thompson. O’hara. Warhol. Ashbery. Dylan. Indifference. Truth. Drugs. Honesty. On The Road. Freedom. Psychotropics. Mostly, though, it’s because they cared by not caring. It’s because they had drive that went beyond money (without excluding it). It’s because they influenced and inspired each other. It’s because nobody does that today. I’m going to have to sound a little like I do in my bit on postmodernity at the beginning of this issue: We don’t have anything to say about anything any more. No, wait. That’s not right. We don’t have anything to say about the human condition anymore. We don’t want to improve anymore; we only want to argue and win arguments about mundane (albeit highly vital) subjects like financial corruption and environmental bullcrap and technology’s attack on society. In the age of postmodernity, we have given up on postmodernism. But I’m not making any statements today. The worldwide Occupy protests are doing their share. TED brings enough thought to the table. Some people remember to remind us that Twitter, Facebook, Apple, Google, and their ilk are on their way to a full frontal attack on our privacy and humanity. I just want to give you a list of things that might make you remember what it meant to be artistic when artistry still created meaning. Alan Ginsberg wrote a poem called Howl. Hunter S Thompson wrote a book called Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. William S Burroughs wrote a confession called Queer. Bob Dylan wrote an anthology of the human condition in poems. Warhol wrote consumerism and celebrity in bright colours. Ashbery wrote disillusionment and deliberation in collections. Others wrote their mind, and marvelled in it. Everybody was trying to paint a portrait of the horrors (and wonders) they saw in the 50s and 60s. “Poetry was declining / Painting was advancing / We were complaining / It was ‘50”. O’Hara said that, retrospectively. “It was ‘50”. That’s my favourite line. Fear and Loathing is a vivid picture of chaos, it is Thompson being Kerouac without being Kerouac. Just like Ginsberg was Whitman without being Whitman, and Dylan was Guthrie without being Guthrie, while Warhol and Lichtenstein were anything but those before them (and yet were). I’m not making sense. Read the books, listen to the songs, watch the movies, understand the commentaries. I said I won’t make any statements and I’m sticking to it. These guys just lived their lives and observed what was around them. What one missed, the other pointed out. Queer wasn’t published till ‘85. Thompson in ‘71. Others, too,

didn’t say much till after the 60s -- but it was then that they learnt to pour everything out. The binding force between all of them is Kerouac. Or Neal Cassidy, Kerouac and Ginsberg’s muse (in various forms and at varying times). Ashbery does plenty more, sometimes invisibly. I’ve only really focused on The Picture of Little J.A. in a Prospect of Flowers, a poem with such power and randomness that I would say it is discarded - no, disregarded - by many. To me, it is not only an intensely powerful statement on the artist, it is the most meaningful expression of what Dylan, Kerouac, Warhol, Kubrick - everyone - was trying to do. It was “that beggar to whom you gave no cent”. Have you seen Scorsese’s No Direction Home? It’s three hours and a half long. I don’t like documentaries (blasphemy!! well, I don’t), but this tribute to Dylan says a lot more about the times, a lot less about the music, and shows enough real footage from back then that it is sufficiently valuable. “So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late” “I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken” “Well, I try my best to be just like I am” “I’m not sleepy and there is no place I’m going to” All this comes from the same beating heart of New York’s Village. But I’m not claiming NYC had it right and others didn’t. I’m just saying they had something we’ve all (mostly) lost. They had change and conviction. They didn’t care. They collaborated. We, too, do that today. But we don’t understand why. We collaborate over Skype, Whatsapp, email, Facebook, Dropbox - brands. Dylan was always on the run, always changing, always trying something new, but what I love the most about Dylan is none of that. Yes, his struggle with and resistance of identity is probably what makes his work exceptional and controversial. But what I love the most about Dylan is his attitude towards the media, or the establishment. Not just the attitude, but this: “something is happening / and you don’t know what it is / do you Mister Jones?” It’s a shame that, today, Mister Jones is the one telling us what’s happening, and we’re the ones who don’t know what it is. Culture used to be created and lead by artists. Maybe David Lehman’s book title The Last Avant-Garde aptly describes the New York School of Poets. Maybe Adorno and Benjamin were right about the work of art and the Culture Industry. Maybe today the media guides and informs culture. I find that somewhat disappointing.

LITERATURE

THE BACKS OF MY KNEES WERE A PROBLEM TODAY. WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT EXTREME, UNRELENTING PAIN COULD COME FROM SUCH A SPECIFIC AND FOREIGN PLACE? ON ANOTHER NOTE, MUCH SELFVALIDATION IS MADE HERE THROUGH FRIENDLY ADVICE, A PLEASANT CHANGE FROM THE SOMEWHAT NEGATIVE VIBE OF A BUZZING KITCHEN. MULTIPLE CHEFS INSISTED I STAND ON BOTH FEET TO AVOID THE INEVITABLE BACK PAIN THAT COMES WITH LONG HOURS OF LABOUR; EXCEPT WHEN I ATTEMPTED THAT SHIFT IN POSITION, MY LEGS STARTED TO HURT. I WAS PLAYING A LOSING HAND, NOTHING WAS GOING TO CHANGE TODAY’S FATE. Did I mention that last night, in spite of exhaustion, I had a mad case of insomnia because of the pulsating pain in my feet? I keep thinking that this is equivalent to boot camp. There’s not one moment (except for the 15 minutes of eating) that you go slow or are calm and not required to be in full focus. Twelve continuous hours of focus and movement. I can’t help but be in awe of the situation. Amidst the most chaotic moment, my head is adamantly arguing ‘no but seriously, I’ve been on focus for nine hours already today, that’s more than a standard week of non-slavery’ – ‘sh. focus Siham focus, agneau with the rectangular black plate, canelle the spinach, your sauce is not on the heat, you’re not focusing – focus Siham focus’. Kitchen politics are strange. I find that those directly under the head chef will often use your status as intern to make themselves look good. Case in point; on a non-climactic afternoon, I’m given instructions which I assume as my responsibility and follow to the dot – a moment later the head chef walks into the kitchen and suddenly I have the same person giving me the same information that was given to me about 5 minutes ago, a déjà vu of sorts. At first I was sure they took me for an idiot and felt the need to reiterate their instructions. I then connected the dots and realized that those situations had very little to do with me. It’s all good, I thought to myself that afternoon, I’ll take it. I’ll pick my fights, and this certainly doesn’t amount to one. Teach me darling teach me, I will make you look like the star that you are and pretend to learn - for the 4th time.

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“Psst!” I would call her over. Wide-eyed and toting a pillowcase full of goodies, Dana would look to Mama and Baba—occupied with a Mouse named Heba, and quietly skip away, attracted by this strange yet familiar woman, unafraid. “I’d like to give you a real treat!” I’d offer, “If you’ll let me.” “Suuuure!” She’d say as she’d sway in her white dress, absolutely angelic, extending her receptacle in the hopes of scoring more chocolate. She had already collected three times as much loot as the Mouse had. But victory was usually hers, and when the Mouse was out of candy she would surely share or at least barter to her benefit. “For these gifts you’ll have to close your bag and open your mind. Can you do that for me?” She would nod enthusiastically, eager to display her adeptness. As her arms dropped and she inched closer I would open my hand for hers, jolted by the pure electricity emanating from her fingertips. She would abandon her sack of sweets and join me on a walk through our Texas neighborhood, crowded with costumed children carrying candy home to meditate on sugary shrines and polite, paranoid parents scouring the Halloween bounty for a renegade razorblade or needle that made it into a Mars bar. They ran our candy through an X-ray machine that year, safer-than-sorry in suburbia so that if the fear of one and other didn’t kill us first, the radiation surely would. And when we finally found a quiet spot lit by the full moon, I would tell her: “Let everything you do be an act of worship. Every word you say, a prayer.” Her glistening eyes would blink rapidly before searching my own for further clarification, her curiosity an unquenchable thirst. “You make a beautiful Angel tonight,” I would muse over a laugh. “ Always know-- that with glittery wings, starry halo or no, you are close to God.” Her brow would furrow, not in repulsion to the thought or at the sudden shift in my tone, but because God was still simply a word, as free as a bird and as vast as the ocean, as new as civilization. She would search the ground around her and shrug with a half sigh, embarrassed to admit that she had only heard of this “God” in passing, though she was quite familiar with the seamless oneness like sunlight, in which she bathed her soul. She had long recognized that the self-same happiness that bubbled in her own belly was excavateable in others as well, when given significant effort and appropriate attention. She was on a first name basis with her desire to explore the multi-dimensional space around her and the beings she encountered within it. She had already fallen in love with play. “You wont always be the same girl you are at this very moment. In fact, every cell in your body will be replaced, every thought in your mind be morphed uniquely new, your feelings refreshed… But at the core of it all, under your fat and philosophy, will be your dearest asset, your strongest organ producing an even, unwavering beat for as long as you live. No one will ever be able to take it from you; it is yours. It is the rhythm to which you will dance around this planet.” She would place her hand smartly over her heart, the way her American teachers had coaxed her to do every morning at school, this time in a genuine pledge of allegiance.

I would nod in approval as I told her, “This muscle will continue to grow strong. It will be very powerful and it will propel you. Those blessed with power should cultivate generosity, so practice giving every day. Give selflessly, give everything.” At this, the shape of her eyes would shame the moon; the twin orbs each reflecting a brightness that illuminated both the time and space around her, a smile stretching like a cat between the cushions of her cheeks. “Your heart is to be shared, freely. Some will not know what to do with the offering, dropping it like dynamite, but to others it will be an S.O.S when they’ve been lost at sea. You’ll see.” Hypnotized, her eyes, now crescents coaxed by the sumptuous clouds of her easy smile, would glaze as she gazed off into a portal of possibilities. “And always know that you are loved. You will blossom into a beautiful person, a lily from mud. Strive to remain true to yourself, this essence. Listen to your dreams, for they will be the maps that guide you to your presents. Be patient, let the origami universe fold and unfold before you. But also be bold, and follow the scent of your instinct, for it will rarely lead you astray. Many will share their experiences and opinions with you. Listen to all of them, listen well. But listen closest to your heart, for it will weigh all options and be a constant compass, no matter the terrain. Danger will crawl under your security blanket, killing your pet comfort, but when he finally gathers the nerve to strike at your heels, he will find you’ve gotten up for a glass of water. And when you return to rest, you’ll understand that he was just as scared of you as you were of him; you’re larger than him, after all-- grand, infinite, free. Believe me.” I would notice a dream devouring her consciousness and quickly color her grey matter a shade of passionate Revolution. “You will have to fight for Peace. I know it seems contradictory, but fight. Fight for yourself. Fight for your family. Fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. Don’t be intimidated to share your mind. Use your voice to trill an Arabian battle cry. Never make a decision out of fear, be brave. You will not fail, for there is nothing you can lose. Let every act be one of worship. Let every word be a prayer.” And with that, I would run my fingers through her hair, and kiss her forehead as I wrapped her body around mine and carried her back to Baba and Mama, still fawning over a Mouse I know that she will always love. And while she is already lost to Nod, exploring some otherworld, her arms will curl around Baba’s neck like the clasp of a perfect necklace. “Revere these beings,” her grasp would remind me. “They have turned away from the world they knew to protect and provide for you.” Exploring their youthful faces will help me map their journey to today’s pouches, pocks, and puckers. Their perky pace to the foreign place they’ve made into their home will explain to me where their enthusiasm was spent, to whom they mortgaged their energy. And I will never again forget it. I will look up at Diana the moon as I thank them for my name, my birth, this life. And I will walk away into the light, every act, one of worship, every word a prayer.

LITERATURE

ovinda hid himself from view behind a tree. There were many trees on the fringe of the building site. They obscured it slightly from the view from the high-rise apartments that loomed over it. Govinda had chosen the most slender tree to hide behind. His small frame could almost be concealed behind it. His hands held the trunk like he would fall. His fingers fumbled the grooves in bark. His young, boned shoulders could just be seen on either side of the tree. Every now and again, he would carefully move a single eye out from one side of the trunk. He could hear his heart beating. He could feel his palms sweating. He was suddenly aware of the blood rushing around underneath those beaten, ill fitting clothes he found across the street. He looked down at the plastic bags and plastic cups and plastic packets around his feet. He heard the boys shouting and looked up. He watched the next boy stand up to the wicket. Govinda remembered that this boy was left handed. Every time that he had seen the boy, he had hit a six beyond the trees where he stood, hiding weakly. He peeked out and watched the tall boy swagger up to the wicket. Four broken breeze blocks stacked high. His steps were slow, but long and smooth. He had a hole in each leg of his browning jeans. His dusted knees would spike out with each of those long, smooth steps. He wore a faded soccer shirt which hung from his shoulders and flashed the bottom of his flat stomach. The glued and nailed bat dipped and rocked, slung across his shoulder like a sword. He pointed vaguely towards the trees on the right side of the field where Govinda hid, without looking from the ground in front of him. Some of the older boys started to laugh at his old swaggering confidence. Two of the

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younger players frantically ran towards Govinda’s tree. He quickly cowered behind it. He poked a single eye out. As the boy took to the wicket, Govinda studied the broad smiles on the children’s faces. Their half moon smiles shone against their sunned skin. Their heads wobbled side to side as they exchanged tactics, pointing and shouting towards the younger boys, arranging them like chess pieces. The wide fielders stood idly, hands pressed onto their thrust forward hips as they looked around. The bowler had started pacing to his starting block. He moved a little quicker than the batter. The wind blew a sharp gust and whipped the dust into the air between them. They stood twenty long, slow paces from one another, staring. Studying one another’s eyes through the dust. The bowler was around the same age as the batter but a little shorter. He wiped his slightly darkened upper lip. The batter stretched his lower lip over his soft, young moustache. The beads of sweat formed and dripped from his forehead, sliding around his fixed stare. He winked at the bowler, and smiled. As he struck the ball into the blue sky, the dust burst up from beneath him. The red tennis ball stood out against the deep blue. They watched it float gently. As the ball stopped rising and began to fall, his team mates began to shout and whoop. Govinda just watched the sky. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly. He turned and started to run. He ran towards the busy road. He could hear the steps of the younger pawns behind him. But he ran faster. He kept a half eye on the oncoming traffic, listening for the beeps. But he watched closely as the ball bounced and rolled into the ditch on the other side. A rickshaw slammed on its breaks as Govinda shot in front of it. “You little bastard! Watch the road!” the fat driver shouted, beeping the horn again. Govinda dived into the ditch and fished the ball out of the filthy water. He looked back. The younger boys had stopped by his tree. He watched them for a moment through the blur of passing traffic. They stood confused as this boy emerged from the ditch with their ball. Govinda glanced both ways, and ran back across the road. “Hey! Give us our ball back!” shouted one boy as Govinda sprinted towards them. He kept running, he ran past them and out onto the field. Blood burst around every part of his body as he felt the rough sand under his soft, bare feet. The heat from the pulsing Delhi sun had warmed the sand. It scorched his soles. But he kept running. He heard the footsteps behind him get quieter. He gradually slowed, arced his arm and threw the ball towards the wicket as hard as he could. The ball bounced around ten feet short of the target. The older boys turned around as the ball bounced again. They saw a strange little boy standing on the field, panting. He was looking around at their faces. They watched as their pawns moved closer and closer to him. He was a skinny little boy. His trousers were damp up to the knees and his clothes were worn and full of holes. The batter looked to his friends and pointed the bat towards Govinda.

“You’re wide right. This one’s for you.” Govinda knew that he was just another pair of legs to chase his sixes. But he didn’t care. He smiled and ran back towards the tree.

They played for hours under the burning sun that day. Nobody kept score. The game would keep going until the sun called it a night. Until they couldn’t possibly play another game. They would start again at sunrise. Govinda chased every ball that came close to him and threw them back to where they came from. His arms were numb. His soles burned. His lips cracked. His cheeks ached from smiling so much. But he didn’t feel a thing. An excitement her never knew existed pushed that pain down. But Govinda couldn’t stop the little worries creeping up into his mind and growing every second. At 3.35, he would have to stop playing. Stop having fun. Stop having friends. Stop being Anit. Stop being who he wanted to be, and start being who he was told to be. Govinda had been watched the gaps between the trees all afternoon. He watched the traffic stream past. He watched for a bus. A big yellow bus making its way towards its school. He worried that he wouldn’t see it pass. That it would leave him there. Leave him there after the cricket finished and the night caved in. He wanted to stay. But he couldn’t. Govinda thought that it was about three o’clock. But he wasn’t sure. The older boy stepped up to bat. He still had that swagger, but it was weary. Worn by the heat and runs back and forth, back and forth. Stuck between two points. But he still wore that smile as he pointed the bat at Govinda. “Another one for you Anit my friend!” he shouted. Govinda smiled and looked over his shoulder. Thick, thirsty shrubs lay behind him. He felt his watch ticking in his pocket. Louder than his heart, but slower. The drawling ticks tried to pull at his smile. The boy struck the ball high into the sky. The ball was harder to see against the deepening blue of the sky. But Govinda stood, eyes fixed as it flew overhead and landed deep into the sharp shrubs. He turned and ran towards them. Wading in, he glanced over his shoulder. The boys were celebrating. This time, no one followed him. He stuffed his hand into his pocket. He pulled out his gold watch and checked the time. 3.26. His heart sank. He hadn’t time for anymore. He knew that he had to leave. Govinda felt a tear run from his eye and mix with the dirt he had rubbed on his face that morning. He saw the ball through the shrubs about two feet in front of him. He bent down and pushed his hand through. His fingers wrapped around the worn old ball. As he pulled it back out he felt the thorns tear at the skin on the back of his hand. As he looked at his hand he knew that he would have to explain those cuts at the dinner table that night.

“Who’s he?” he asked behind him. The boys shrugged. “He can throw pretty well.” Govinda’s heart skipped a little. He stopped his smile from breaking through. “Who are you?”

“I have to go” shouted Govinda, memorizing their smiles to hold back his tears.

Govinda looked down at his feet, burning in the sand. “Anit” he replied. “Who’s your father?” the boy asked.

“Why?” replied the bowler. He tossed the ball Govinda threw into the air, catching it again.

“He’s called Anit too.”

“I have to meet my father at the market.” Govinda looked back at his feet. They had stopped hurting now. The dirt was embedded beneath his well cut nails. He curled his toes and gripped the hot, harsh sand.

The younger boys caught up with him. They surrounded Govinda and started to eye him up and down. Govinda looked through them, towards the older boy with the bat. “I don’t know him. You live in the Jhugghi?” Govinda nodded. He looked at the slum in the distance. The dark, rumbling slum. This was the closest he had ever been to the Jhuggi Jhompdi. “How come we don’t know you?” shouted the boy, swinging his bat slowly across the field, passing each of his friends. “We just moved here. Two days ago. From Orcha.” The boy turned to his friends behind him and gave a light shrug. He turned and walked back to the wicket. Raising the bat high in the air, he pointed towards Govinda’s tree.

“Okay. Well, same time tomorrow” said the batter with a smile, “You’re a pretty good player.” Govinda let a single tear fall and land on his feet. It mixed with the dirt he had ran onto them all day. He looked back up at group of slum children, and wiped his face gently. None of them noticed. “Yeah. Tomorrow,” he replied softly. The lump in his throat grew with every tick and tock he felt in his pocket. He turned and walked away, back towards his tree. No footsteps followed him. He reached his weak hiding place and lifted up the old, torn plastic bags. He found his clean bag sitting where he left it. Through the thin white plastic he could see his school uniform, his bag and the bottle of water he had packed to clean himself off with. He heard the game start again. The laughs and cheers swept in from behind him. Govinda walked across the road and started to sob.

LITERATURE

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I’m frightened. I’m frightened of everything. I’m frightened that an air conditioning unit might fall on my head while I’m swimming at the gym, knock me out and cause me to drown. I’m frightened that if I turn my back for a minute, my six year old daughter will disappear. It doesn’t matter if we’re at a shopping mall, on the beach, in a restaurant or even at her school, for god’s sake. I’m scared she’ll just disappear. I’m frightened that I have, in my fifty years or so of life, become so immersed in the many movies I’ve loved, hated, been scared of etc., that my expectations of life are rooted in Hollywood’s telling of it. I’m frightened that people will see right through me and see me as I see me. I’m frightened that despite a high voltage, well-nigh impregnable fence, three gates and an internal locked door that separates our bedrooms from the rest of the house, a murderer will break in, force my child to drink drain cleaner, shoot my wife and then worst of all, leave me alive. I’m frightened of South African taxi drivers, every time I return to my home in Johannesburg. Not their driving style, nor their indifference to safety. Rather, I’m frightened of getting so uncontrollably angry at some or other infraction which inconveniences me that I provoke one of them to pull out the illegal firearm they almost certainly have under their seat, and shoot me. I’m frightened of my ex-wife. Not that she is continuously suing me for more money. Not that she holds the power of influence over my two older children. I’m scared she may have been right about me. And writing of which, I’m frightened about my older daughter, with whom I haven’t had a decent conversation with for almost five years. The pain of the loss doesn’t frighten me. But the awful sense that one day I’ll wake up without that pain; that frightens me. I’m frightened of my laptop battery exploding as I type this, causing my testicles to burst into flame, my penis to be lacerated and my inner thighs to cease to exist. I’m frightened by new sights and sounds, as if their unfamiliarity will generate unfamiliar thoughts or feelings in me. I’m even frightened by being frightened of this, because it probably means I’ve just got a lazy mind that couldn’t be bothered to make the effort to explore newness. I’m frightened by flying through turbulence, but even more frightened when it goes calm again. Oh God, why has it stopped being bumpy? Did we lose a wing? I was frightened of having the soccer world cup here in South Africa. Not because of the more common fear of violence on a mass scale, but in case rain might fall on the opening parade. Or that the worldwide television audience would look at South Africa and think “So what?” instead of “Wow! I’ve got to get on a plane and go visit”.

I suppose that means I’m scared that the world will be indifferent to everything I hold dear. I’m frightened about the conflict in my mind about the fundamentals of religion. Logic and rationality dictates there is no God and we, as a race, have yet to find the answers to the unexplained. A ‘superior being’ is a concept we’ve developed along the journey for truth, it’s not the massive conceit of assuming we’re arrived at the destination of truth. Yet I find myself praying for the safety of the daughter I’ve lost contact with and in other moments of deep, deep distress. This conflict confuses me; and confusion frightens me. I’m frightened I’m a racist, although on every level of consciousness and conscience, I’m not. For a long time while living in South Africa, I’ve been intrigued by my fearful reaction to restless crowds of black people or singular black people at traffic lights before they reveal whether they are asking for something or ready to take it by force. But my reaction has not been rooted in racism. Rather, it’s an acknowledgement that these people are the product of a catastrophic lack of opportunity. However, when I have worked with black people, successful black people, I have held them in higher regard than I normally would have with a white counterpart. Can I use the same self-appraisal in reverse? The answer frightens me, and makes me wonder deep down whether I am a racist after all. I’ve been frightened by the end of the recession, because it means I no longer have the excuse for why I’m not the success I should be. I’m frightened by books like “Don’t Sweat The Small Stuff” because if I read it, I will be engaging in a dialogue with a force that wants me to change my ways. I can’t have that; being frightened is my white cane in life. I’m frightened and distrustful of wanting to like something so much, I cannot see the faults or flaws in it. This happens on an all-too regular basis, which is frightening enough in itself. I am frightened that, if the situation were to arise, I might not have the courage to sacrifice myself to save my children, although I am calmed by the thought that if such a thing were to occur, instinct would almost certainly prevail. I’m frightened by sporting contests featuring a team I support. The fear coursing through me has little to do with the eventual score line, but the manner in which it will be achieved. Will I shout at a fumble, or curse a team member who doesn’t, for just one second, rise to the expectations I’ve set? Perhaps I should recant. I’m frightened by the blind ferocity with which i watch a game featuring a team i support. I’m frightened I make too much of an effort to convince people I’m not a bigot, when most of the time it’s abundantly clear to myself that I am. Why can’t I just surrender to it? Because I’m frightened, is why. I wanted to end this article by writing that I’m frightened you won’t like it. But on the basis that you’ve read this far, that would just be silly.

LITERATURE

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They told me about him. In so many words, there’s this man in the mountains that can sort you out. So I went looking for him. I didn’t really have to get to the mountains to find him. He was there, right before my eyes, in a town, the last town before you reached the mountains. It had to be him. It took a particular life to have eyes that were full of life, yet so irresponsive to it. A degree of stoic that came from seeing things in a different light, light from the sun that bounced off the mountains. He was there, on a little street - streets in such towns at the end of the world tend to be narrow, sandwiched between a roadside barber, and the man that sold tea from a steel vessel attached to the backside of his bicycle. I saw him while I was paying for my tea. He sat on a chair, a rather old chair, looking at some point on the street, but yet not on it. I stood there for a whole minute. Or maybe two. Time tends to bend by different degrees in different places. I inched closer to him. Steam escaped from my cup into the morning cool. Still not looking at me, he said, “sit down.” I looked around, looking for a place, a chair, but none appeared. So I sat down on the earth, my Levi’s kissing the hard sand like it kissed the fat of my ass. “How this life is,” he asked, not wanting an answer. A warm glow of a smile blurred the rest of the world out. The tea went cold. “Few years ago, did you ever think you’d be here,” he asked. Rhetoric ticked along with the clock. And then he looked into me. What I really meant was, he saw into me, where my eyes were like windows one drew into the only picture I could draw, the one everyone learns to draw, the house by the mountains and the sun rising and the river flowing and the blue clouds floating. After measuring my soul with his invisible inaudible mental apparatus he kept silent. This whole process taking a few minutes. Maybe. What did I say about time and places. “I’ve been waiting for you all this while”, he quipped. The solution is simple, you have to purge. It’s that thing in you. You have to get it out. I had wanted to ask, is it going to get worse. “No, it’ll not get worse. It’s like the screech of a chalk on a blackboard. Not really loud but its presence that will drive you insane. Now go back to where you came from, and the solution will find itself.” There was something really odd I didn’t get while in his sphere of his magneton which dawned upon me later. He spoke to me in crisp English. The English that didn’t get buried in the twisted consonants of a mountain language. The English that didn’t get buried in a song of hawker cries. The English of a previous successful worldly life.

So I went back to where time was money. And money was borrowed. And I used it to buy a case of ipecac. I vomited the rainbow onto my living room carpet. I vomited the rainbow onto the white porcelain toilet. In no particular order, the colors until it was green. Until it was bile. I picked myself, flushed water against gravity through my intestines. I went up to that expensive spa, checked in and detoxified. I went to the medicine man and downed potions. Azadirachta Indica, he had said. Pure extracts of the neem running through my veins. I downed sleeping pills and slept. And then woke up. But nothing had changed. I felt something had to give. I paced up and down, something I did to think. Something had to give, I kept telling myself. But something didn’t. It didn’t have to. My trip back into the directions of the mountains was much more easier. Like an airplane. Fuel burnt to burn fuel to burn fuel. Until all I was, was some bones in a Ralph Polo shirt. I found him in the dead of night at the same place I found him before. But his beard spread out in a background of silence, the kind that makes every breath echo. “I have seen this moment a long long time ago,” he said, “but once you’ve learnt what I have, it is but another moment, no different from the moment from yesterday.” I kept quiet. There was more coming and it did. “You didn’t manage it, did you? You would not have believed me if I told you so. This is a generation of quick fixes. I was no different a few years back. Some things cannot be solved by downing a pill. Or an incision with a scalpel. Or by replacement. Some things need an accrual of action over a passage of time. It simply does.” The rage filled in me like an effervescent tablet in a glass of water. Bubbling, rising to the brim, hugging it till it went back down to my uncontrollable limbs, the ground moist in spillage. You know that drawing we learn first in school, the one with the houses and the mountains and the river and the clouds. It’s always daytime in that picture. It’s never the image of a quietly dynamic night. There is never a moon, a half moon. There is never the fireflies or the frogs or the wet sand I dirtied my feet on. There’s never the reflection of the stars on the water I saw, when I let his body float away on a piece of wood I found. His beard and shriveled skin moist like the grass that grew unchecked. Then, I went up the mountain, and noticed that the windows of the house were too small unlike the picture we drew. And then few years later I think it was, someone came looking for me. He didn’t ask me. I just knew, because I could read him like the sky before an unexpected rainfall.

LITERATURE

FARES BOUNASSIF & MOHAMED EL AMIN

READING LIST

AS YOU’LL NOTICE, THERE ARE TWO OF US THIS TIME. THE IDEA IS THERE’S NO REASON I ALWAYS HAVE TO PICK THE BOOKS, AND MO IS AN AWESOMELY WELL-READ GUY. HOW HIGH SCHOOL OF ME. SO HERE’S WHAT’S HAPPENING THIS TIME AROUND: FIVE BOOKS OF NO CONSISTENT THEME OTHER THAN THAT THEY’RE UNIQUE AND EXCEPTIONAL. ONE OF THE BOOKS IS AN ARABIC (EGYPTIAN) TEXT WRITTEN IN THE VERNACULAR THAT HAS YET TO FIND AN ENGLISH TRANSLATOR (ANYONE WANT TO ENDORSE MO’S DESIRE TO TRANSLATE IT?). WE KNOW NOT EVERYONE READS ARABIC, BUT STILL THINK IT’S AN INTRIGUING ENOUGH TEXT TO MAKE OUR LIST. THE REST SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES: CLASSICS AND NON-FICTION OF ORIGINALITY AND CREATIVE GENIUS. OR INTELLECTUAL, AS THE CASE MAY BE.

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THE LITTLE ICE AGE: HOW CLIMATE MADE HISTORY, 1300-1850 Brian M. Fagan It’s a fact known to historians but not so much to the masses (in detail, that is) that, more than religion, wars and politics (combined) climate change had the most instant effect on culture and a direct ripple motion on all of history. In a time where carbon foot print is the “it” topic of discussion, this book is a must for understanding the mannerism our ancestors understood and dealt with weather, from crop choice to attempts to absorb famine. It’s a sweeping view of Europe mere centuries from its leap into the industrial revolution, and one that never grows tiresome or far too detailed as to alienate the reader. Chances are you’ll just end up delving in to the subject matter even more so, searching for other material on the topic. If that is the case, let us know, because I’ve a real behemoth of a book for you sink your jaws in after this.

CROOKED LITTLE VEIN Warren Ellis Ludicrously unfortunate, but equally talented detective, becomes enlisted by the White House to relocate the hidden constitution of the United States (written on a book made of the skin of a deceased alien). Strange? Oh boy, that’s only 5 pages into it. Ellis made a name for himself as unquestionably one of the finest comic and graphic novel writers to grace the medium, and in his first novel he carries the most absurd concepts with him, but here he applies noir fiction to delve into the heart of America with all its Internet ushered absurdity that is as much as study of Rule 34 as it is a love story. It’s Parker and Vonnegut chatting on an online forum, and trust me, you want to read every bit of it.

FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS Hunter S. Thompson IDespicable. Boundless. Viral. Ambivalent. Humorous. Flawless. Exceptional. Insatiable. Deliberate. Ludicrous. Insufferable. Surreal. Peculiar. Explicit. Rare. I did need a thesaurus to remember some of those words (three of them): that’s what this book is. All of them. And, due to the authentic nature of the non-fictional fictional novel that Thompson is infamous for, you might need to look up some of the long-dead expressions he uses throughout. But if On The Road was a landmark text in the 50s, bringing about the developments in art and literature that followed, this book would be the closing act of that inimitable generation of creatives, artists, and individuals. It seems to describe a period right after the end of the Dylans, Ginsbergs, and Warhols of America. Read it, even if drug stories are not your thing - it’s so much more than a drug story.

QUEER William S. Burroughs The title kind of makes you think Burroughs gave it all away, but he didn’t really.Yes, it’s about queers. But it’s really about everything Queer, and Lee (the protagonist) is queer not only in that he is a homosexual. The story itself is queer, and not only because of the sexuality of the characters in it. Possibly the last great story of the Beats, this text goes far and beyond the original works of the legendary literati of the 50s and 60s. It gives us the Beats in all their maturity, spewing sentences and pages of pure literature, of grand declarations, of virtuous decadence in a truthfulness that can’t even be found in the supposedly liberated writings of modern day writers. You will see the years just after World War II in a different light.

EL SAKKA MAAT (THE IRRIGATOR DIED) Yousef al-Sibai Arguably my favorite Arabic novel. Al-Sibai had an unusual grasp of the mechanics of slightly above poverty manual labor in Egypt, and weaves a basic story between a father and son dealing with loss and acceptance during a post-Bashaw Cairo with its peculiar socioeconomic background . The father, a water supplier to local households; the son, a rascal loved by everyone in his neighborhood; the friend, a man whose job description I can’t detail as it’s pivotal to the lot: it’s a profoundly simplistic book whose language and humor utilizes the most basic Egyptian streetwise vernacular, difficult to understand, but a magnificent recapturing of Cairo circa the 1900s that will inevitably leave you crying at its climax (no seriously, you will cry).

EVENTS

“We’re just 4 guys from California man” – James Hetfield, front man, Metallica

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EVENTS METALLICA

James Hetfield (vocals, guitar), Lars Ulrich (drums), Kirk Hammet (guitar, background vocals) and Robert Trujillo (bass, background vocals). These 4 guys from California, lauded as the pioneers of rock music and revolutionaries of mainstream heavy metal, literally set fire to the stage at the Yas Arena in Abu Dhabi on the 25th of October to a roaring sea of more than 25,000+ screaming and elated fans. Metallica, who are celebrating their 30th year of music-making, were playing to a sell-out crowd for the first time in the Middle East. They added a page in the history of rock music in the region and gave their fans a night that will never be forgotten nor ever trumped. During a very sensitive political time in the Middle East, one can’t help but remember it being about 20 years since Metallica had played to a crowd of over 100,000 for the first time during the opening of the former Soviet Union. One can love a band and their music for decades but only when you watch that band live does their music transform to something more than what you’ve ever imagined it to be. I wasn’t even born when Metallica’s first album Kill ‘Em All came out, but like millions of kids from my generation, I’ve grown up listening to them. They were my avenue into the rock genre and have set a high bar for the music I listen to. Packed in a van with 14 other Metallica-crazed fans on the way to Abu Dhabi from Dubai, all we could do was speculate on their set list. Almost everyone had a similar choice of songs they wanted Metallica to perform and after 30 years with 9 studio albums, Metallica has some iconic songs that garner universal love from their fan base. The night began with local band Nervecell, who were the opening act for Metallica. A very fitting opening act, these guys are local, home-bred talent who have been an integral part of the local UAE heavy metal scene for about a decade now. They have been enjoying some international recognition with tours in Europe and parts of Asia over the last few years. Soon after Nervecell departed from the stage, about half a dozen men in shorts began to run up and down the stage. It was Metallica’s crew and they were setting up everything to perfection for the legends. The sound check alone by the crew gave me goose bumps. The drums, the guitars, the bass and the mics, all went through rigorous final checks for levels before Metallica was to use them to create magic in the Yas Arena. The sound was impeccable. Standing right at the front, I could feel the bass and the vibrations emanating out of the gigantic amplifiers that lined all sides of the stage. You could feel the anticipation in the air as people from every corner of the massive venue began to make their way as close to the stage as they possible could in the General and Fan Pit areas. When they rolled out Lars’ signature drum set on the stage the crowd went crazy. It really sank in at that point what we were about to witness. Metallica was to perform LIVE right in front of us, probably a first for almost everyone there. The wait was getting unbearable; the atmosphere was palpable. At random intervals the crowd would burst into applause and screams, making us wonder what warranted that as the stage was still dark and unpopulated by any heavy metal legends. 138

It’s amazing how time ceases when you’re standing there in a crowd of thousands, staring up at a dark and empty stage just waiting to be blown away by a band that, for most, is the definition of what rock and heavy metal music is all about. At exactly 9:30 pm the stage lights came to life and out walked the 4 guys who over 25,000 people from all over the region had congregated to watch. Metallica was officially on stage, it wasn’t a dream, it was real. We were going to embark on one hell of a musical journey with a band that has set the standard of what a live rock show should be. The set could not have had a more electrifying beginning as James, Kirk, Lars, and Robert burst into Creeping Death with the crowd going insane. Every arm in the sea of people was raised in the air, showing true respect to the legend that is Metallica. Earlier than I would have imagined, the next song was For Whom The Bell Tolls and with that the crowd just went wild. Following that epic number was Fuel after which it became pretty obvious how the rest of the night was going to pan out. After about the first 4 songs, James Hetfield began talking to the crowd, acknowledging how long we have waited for them and how long Metallica has waited to play to us. James Hetfield seemed truly humbled. The man has played in front of a crowd 5 times larger than what he saw that night and still humbled nonetheless. It’s beautiful to see after 30 years that the band still has the passion they had in the beginning during their absolute peak. Their love for their crowd was beyond anything I’ve ever seen. James kept referring to us as the “Metallica family” and thanked us more than once throughout the set. He’s a great front-man, sorry, the greatest front man you’ll ever see perform. Ever. James Hetfield asked the crowd if we liked their “old stuff” and if so, we were in for quite a ride. He kept his promise. The entire set consisted of some of their most iconic and best songs they’ve churned out in their 30-year musical journey. Classics like One, Fade To Black, Blackened, Master of Puppets, Enter Sandman, Sad But True, Welcome Home (Sanitarium) were all part of the grueling 2 hours and 15 minutes set. They played one song off their Death Magnetic album – Cyanide – which James Hetfield introduced us to unlike all the other songs. It was surprising they played just one song off the album for which they are touring, but it was the most pleasant surprise I’ve ever had and I’m sure everyone else in the crowd shared that same sentiment. I like their latest album but all I was itching for is to be able to listen to One. Metallica truly is a testament to dedication, passion and sheer love of fans to be able to perform such a long set with some of their most high voltage songs. Each song was welcomed by thunderous screams from the fans as they recognized the number and went berserk not believing their ears. ‘Am I really standing here listening to Nothing Else Matters being played live by Metallica? Bizzare’ – that’s what was going through my head when Kirk Hammett begins the riff to the starting solo and about a minute later James Hetfield joins in with his riff and vocals. The entire crowd went silent when the song began and you could see a sea of lighters appear - the iconic greeting to a melodic rock song.

During their more intense numbers like Fuel they had flames thrown upwards from the stage. I could feel the heat on my face every time the fire was thrown up, can’t imagine what it was like for the guys up there. But brilliant pyrotechnics and impeccable timing made it a heavy metal extravaganza. At one point or the other during the night, the crowd was treated to a solo by a band member; Robert Trujillo gave us a great bass solo which was well appreciated by the crowd. Lars Ulrich did a fantastic solo on the drums - though it wasn’t as long as I would have liked. And of course Kirk Hammett treated us to a solo in almost every song as every great Metallica song has a Kirk Hammett solo behind it, a sublime moment in time when every thought in your head disappears and all you can do is stare in awe at the Master perform. At one point towards the end, the lights shut off and they began to walk off the stage, and of course the crowd began chanting “WE WANT MORE. WE WANT MORE”. James Hetfield signed that it was too late and he’d like to go to sleep, but of course the crowd was far from understanding of his plight. But then again, these old legends are fueled by the screams of their fans - and Metallica never lets their fans down - so they come back bursting on stage with Enter Sandman after which James Hetfield wanted to play a cover song as a tribute to their idols. The song was Am I Evil by DiamondHead. As part of their encore, they ended the night with Motorbreath and Seek & Destroy. The night was over. The dream had ended. The high had passed. We had just witnessed the greats of the genre perform an incredible set without a single folly, with the same energy they had 20 years ago. They spent almost 10 minutes distributing picks and drumsticks to all sides of the stage before they walked off. Many a lucky fan walked away that night with a pick or a drumstick that had the privilege to touch the strings of James Hetfield or Kirk Hammett’s guitar or be banged on by Lars on his pristine drum set. James the Maestro. Lars the Maniac. Robert the Ape. Kirk the Master. These 4 guys rocked Yas Arena and 25,000 people on the 25th October 2011, a day that has been etched in the history books and in the minds of each and everyone present on that day. What a day it was.

EVENTS METALLICA

COMPLETE SET LIST Main Set: Creeping Death For Whom the Bell Tolls Fuel Ride the Lightning Fade to Black Cyanide The Memory Remains Welcome Home (Sanitarium) Sad But True All Nightmare Long One Master of Puppets Blackened Nothing Else Matters Enter Sandman

Encore: Am I Evil? Motorbreath Seek & Destroy

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EVENTS

Stoli THE Next orIgINAL Unless youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been under a well-insulated rock, you would have heard by now of the Stoli Originality competition. Basically they got a bunch of people to make videos of how original they are. The 10 shortlisted people, including our very own Gyula Deak, were then invited, along with their hype men, to a night at Rare nightclub. The various groups and contestants shouted and screamed, danced and persuaded the crowd into voting for their friends. Our vote goes for Gyula, clearly the most original by FAR, with his incredible video, awesome tshirts, cool flyers, and his original group of amazing friends. We love the fact that he used his design skills to promote himself. Although this feels more like a Facebook popularity contest rather than a quest for originality, we still love the whole idea and appreciate Stoliâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s efforts at promoting and encouraging originality. The competition results will be out soon so cross your fingers and toes that originality will prevail! Gyula FTW!

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EVENTS

Hamdan Al Abri EP Release Party

The Music Room, 26 October If you read our interview with Hamdan in last issue you will hopefully know by now just how amazing he is. If you’ve heard his EP (out for free download on hamdan.bandcamp.com) then you definitely know just how brilliant of a musician he is. So to see Hamdan performing these beautiful songs live was simply sublime. DJ Solo warmed us up and fed the anticipation with a kicking set that had us all grooving and ready to be seduced by Hamdan’s voice, lyrics, and the professional backing of the resident band at The Music Room. Every song was echoed by the crowd of old and new fans; every face was lit with the pure joy of being lucky enough to experience a truly talented individual performing live. The fact that Hamdan is among the few homegrown talents in the UAE added to the delight we all felt as he performed every single song with the passion we’ve come to expect, yet are never less joyously surprised at receiving. And to top it all off, we were in for a treat as he performed his new song Tag for the first time. All we can say is, Hamdan, keep on doing what you’re doing. You’re an inspiration to many and we look forward to more releases from you! In the mean time, your EP is on loop on all our laptops, iPods and various other gadgets. Thanks for delivering fresh music with the soul and dedication of a true artist.

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for the love of music After an amazing campaign that had the whole city guessing what exactly FORTLM stood for, the guys at Kilma finally showed us it’s all about For The Love of Music. Our favourite songstresses Noush Like Sploosh and Gayathri rocked the stage as they always do. Gayathri never leaves the stage without ensuring that every single person there is covered in goosebumps and literally gasping at how epically talented she is. Noush gave a particularly stellar performance that night and even did a variation of “When the Pussy (cat) gets wet” which we first had the pleasure of hearing at our Soapbox Society back in September! The event also introduced us to a new favourite: Malika Omar, a beautiful pianist and singer who we look forward to hearing more from in the future. Other performers on the night included: Simone Cooper, Fatiniza, and Kerrie Anne. Photos by: Olga Lobanova

We had a great night as usual in the company of such amazing talent, and are looking forward to more events from our friends at Kilma!

EVENTS

DRIVE OUT LOUD MINI FESTIVAL We love design. In case you hadn’t noticed. Fashion design. Graphic design. Sound design… and of course incredibly well designed cars. So of course it made perfect sense for us to be part of the MINI festival. We took part in the convoy to Abu Dhabi where we were treated to stunts from the legendary Russ Swift as well the official unveiling of the MINI Coupe. The next morning it was back to Dubai in a bright red MINI Cooper S along with over 100 other MINIs! We were super psyched for the MINI Festival – and with good reason. First off, a spin around the track with a professional race driver. Then a MINI beauty pageant, then we checked out old school MINIs, chatted with drivers, and chilled in our quint tent until the much-anticipated musical performances from Hamdan and Beat Antenna. The guys blew us away (as per usual). The perfect end to two brilliant days hosted by the MINI team!

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EVENTS

Michael Love Rexen

KICKS OFF THE FRIDGE’S 8TH CONCERT SERIES The incredibly talented alternative folk artist Michael Love Rexen opened The Fridge’s 8th Concert Series on Monday 24 October. We sat and admired in awe as he bestowed upon us tales of his life as well as a musical performance that was as enigmatic and engaging as it was fresh and professional. He closed the night off with five local musicians and it ended with an upheaval of emotion, brought to us through Michael’s musical direction and leadership. What a rush! We also had the chance to sit down with Michael and artist Jakob Bue, whose work was showcased at the event. Look out for interviews with the both of them in quint magazine very soon! Check out Michael’s music at www.akeyisakey.com and Jakob’s work at www.jakobbue.dk Visit www.thefridgedubai.com for more information on their Concert Series and upcoming events.

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Phioro On Tuesday October 25th, Phioro launched their latest Spring/ Summer 2011 collection at Okku. Phioro’s new collection is focused around limited edition and customized pieces. Clare Pardoe, designer and founder of Phioro says, “It has been a great pleasure to be able to share my collections in such a beautiful venue. I am delighted with the response to my latest collection; it is so rewarding to see the appreciation of my work reflected on the faces of the attendees. It is about sharing and spreading the Phioro ethos of beauty, balance and exclusivity throughout our client base. No two pieces can be exactly the same as they are painstakingly handmade, just as no two clients are identical. Each creation is made with a sole recipient in mind.” Visit www.phioro.com to view more of Clare’s work.

EVENTS

Gayathri ’s Single and Music Video Launch TRAFFIC, 10 NOVEMBER Gayathri is an incredible person, a loving friend, and a mindblowing performer. She pours endless energy into her music. This and her beautiful character made for yet another perfect performance. We were treated to a vision in shimmering vintage strumming her guitar as she opened with her single “Champion of Broken Hearts”. The lighting allowed for dramatic shadows to dance around her as she poured forth her distinctive melodies. Producer Reiner Erlings, and fellow dynamic musician Tim Hassall joined our lovely Gayathri on stage for this intimate, goose-bump inducing presentation of a project birthed from pure love for the art of music. Artsy folk, friends, family, and the musically inclined all gathered in anticipation of the music video we all assembled to see. To say the least, we were blown away. Gayathri’s creative vision and dedication resulted in an experience that overwhelmed and excited every single person who was lucky enough to be present. It’s so encouraging and inspiring to experience someone’s passion and hard work. As soon as the video came to an end, the faces of the crowd broke out into joyous grins and excited conversation – all encouraged and inspired and thrilled to have been part of this

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experience. This is what makes it all worth it to pour your heart into something – sharing your vision, sharing your passion, and sharing the beauteous result of countless hours spent focused on art, creativity, and the essential practice of self expression. We were lucky enough to take part in a new beginning of Gayathri’s musical journey, and hopefully we’ll all be lucky enough to experience more and more from this ridiculously talented and fascinating musician. A special mention goes out to the artists who supported Gayathri with their own lovely creations. Denise Kynd made her lovely matchboxes for the event, which were given out for free to the lucky attendees. Our dear Aya Atoui’s iconic and beautiful photographs left everyone in awe. Director Mrinal B showcased his undeniable talent in the music video for “Champion of Broken Hearts”. Designer and artist Vikram Divecha created the beautiful work of art that cradles Gayathri’s single and music video. And our own Gyula Deak, who contributed and supported Gayathri with his illustration and design work. This talented group showed their dedication and support by enhancing the entire experience through their various art forms.

EVENTS

quint @ The Fridge: Audiophiles Anonymous THE FRIDGE, 14 OCTOBER Seems like these days, everyone proclaims to be a “DJ”. Thing is, we don’t buy it. Especially after witnessing guys like Lobito and Solo at their profession. No, you’ll have to do a lot more than press a few buttons to impress us. And our standards for quality DJing have risen even higher since our latest quint @ The Fridge event: Audiophiles Anonymous. DJ Lobito, Producer Kashmir, DJ and Producer Solo, and Producer Solphonic showed us how it’s done with interactive and intimate lessons in scratching, digging culture, turntable vs CDs, reconstructing music from old records, looping, juggling, and drumming techniques, and more. We had the opportunity to experience DJing as a musical art form, rather than the unfortunate stereotype of DJs as a “jukebox”. These talented musicians also clued us into the history of hip-hop culture, recommended great books to read, as well as gave us information on why this is all so relevant and important in our current state of musical decline. Rather than relegating ourselves to “house DJs” who loop track after track of noise, we should refine our ears and minds as well as expect the same from a DJ as any other musician. In other words, we should expect original and interesting music to come out of those speakers when a DJ steps up, rather than the drivel we’ve come to expect from button-pushing, playlist shuffling, commercial DJs. For more on hip-hop culture, as well as all the topics covered in Audiophiles Anonymous get in touch with the guys. To groove to some real music made by real musicians, check out Deep Crates every Thursday at Casa Latina, Ibis Al Barsha, or the DUST events taking place at Catwalk and around the city. If you have any questions about how to get involved with more workshops, drop us an email at hi@quintdubai.com and we’ll get you in touch with these incredibly talented musicians.

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PRESENTS

EVENTS

Virgin’s anniversary After ten years of giving the Middle East music, books, and more, Virgin Megastores celebrated their decade of aweseome-ness with a party at Rare. We loved everything from the invites (real cassette tapes! how “retro”) to the artwork from local up and coming artists like our friends Mohammed Hindash, Ella Orencillo, and Fathima Mohiuddin. It was great to see a huge corporation like Virgin including amazing young talent in such an important occasion. It really shows their dedication to the Middle Eastern art and music scenes. Kudos Virgin! We look forward to another ten!

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EVENTS

Event Listings November 2 – November 30 5:30pm – 7:30pm INDIAN BUDDHIST ART WORKSHOP- THE FACE OF A BODHISATTVA

Workshop that will explore the use of natural shapes in Indian Buddhist art and examine symmetry and proportion of facial features. Free of charge but prior registration is required. Manarat Al Saadiyat +971 2 657 5800

November 16 – November 19 10am – 9:30pm ARTBUS TO ABU DHABI ART 2011 The ArtBus is back for the third edition of Abu Dhabi Art, giving art lovers the chance to explore Abu Dhabi’s art scene. Departure place at thejamjar. +971 4 341 7303 artinthecity.com

saadiyat.ae November 2 – November 30 7pm – 8pm AFWAN DAHOUL: ‘A REAL DREAM’ Exhibition featuring several new paintings that will highlight a recent breakthrough in the artist’s “Dream” series, a large body of work that he began in 1982. Ayyam Gallery +971 4 323 6243 ayyamgallery.com November 10 – December 3 THE STATE: THE COMING INSURRECTION Presents a group exhibition which takes its title from the book ‘The Coming Insurrection’ by The Invisible Committee. The show is a continuation of ‘THE STATE’, a socio-historical journal & forum, and a symbolic transition from last exhibition ‘Social/Antisocial?’ Traffic +971 4 347 0209 viatraffic.org November 12 - November 18 7:30pm onwards THE SOUND OF MUSIC The critically acclaimed sell out smash hit production returns to Dubai for nine final performances only Madinat Jumeirah

November 19 – November 30 6:30pm – 9pm MEMBERS EXHIBITION A showcase of local artistic talent, where artists have the opportunity to display their latest and newest creations, from students as young as four years old to accomplished professionals. +971 4 344 4398 artdubai.com November 30 – January 1 MUQTANAYATI Exhibition that fosters cross-cultural relationships amongst the community of the UAE. The project aims to engage the local community and create a platform for sharing our sometimes disparate but over-lapping experiences of living in the UAE. People are invited to submit an object which they feel has a link to their journey in the country. thejamjar +971 4 341 7303 thejamjardubai.com November 30 7pm to 10pm FILM SCREENING – Cultures of Resistance Presented by Community Cinema and Traffic, ‘Cultures of Resistance’ (CoR) is an award-winning documentary feature that highlights the work of artists, musicians, and dancers throughout the world who are working for peace and justice, and are reconceiving resistance as a fundamentally creative act. Traffic +971 4 347 0209

soundofmusicdubai.com November 13 - December 19 10am – 8pm SADEGH TIRAFKAN 04-10 Exhibition of the artist’s cultural journey through the years 2004 to 2010 and features four series of works, which are very much interlinked and woven together by history, identity, sociopolitical, religious and gender issues. Etemad Gallery +971 4 346 8649

viatraffic.org November 13 – January 5 ZIAD DALLOUL The first solo exhibition in the UAE for renowned Syrian painter Ziad Dalloul - the subjects of his work involve stagnant, commonplace domestic objects which are placed on the foreground of landscapes depicting nature’s virility in some form. +971 4 346 9305

galleryetemad.com

gagallery.com

November 13 – December 30 Sun – Thur 10am – 7pm; Sat 12pm – 6pm HADUTTA MASRIYA Exhibition of the story of the lives of everyday Egyptians as seen through the eyes of three highly acclaimed artists in a group exhibition.

November 10 - January 12 10am - 8pm DISCONNECTED An exhibition of real life images presents the raw emotion of the city of Karachi that has experienced a passage of unfortunate events in its recent history. The Third Line Gallery +971 4 341 1367

The Mojo Gallery Unit 33 Al Serkal Avenue, Street 8, Al Quoz 1, Dubai

+971 4 347 7388 thethirdline.com themojogallery.com

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EVERY THURSDAY 10pm onwards DEEP CRATES Funk, hip hop, afrobeat, soul, boogie, and more. Great drink deals, free entry – a great, non-pretentious night out. Casa Latina, Ibis Hotel, Al Barsha

NOVEMBER 15 (third Tuesday of every month) 9pm onwards SEE YOU NEXT TUESDAY Free entry all night, free selected cocktails all night for ladies, Indie, Disco & Electro. Republique, The Address Hotel, Dubai Mall

EVERY NIGHT (EXCEPT WEDNESDAY) 9:15pm onwards For more live music, head over to Healey’s to enjoy the beautiful musical stylings of The Johanna Sandell Duo. Johanna and Mikko will blow you away with their incredible renditions of all your favourite songs! Healey’s Bar, Bonnigton Tower facebook.com/johannasandellduo bonnigtonjltapartments.com

EVERY NIGHT 7pm to midnight Live music at Jebel Ali Golf Resort & Spa from the incredibly talented Jess, Kris, and Benjamin – who make up Wild Strawberries – as well as guitar man Tobias. Catch the Wild Strawberries at Mushrif Bar every night except Saturday from 9pm to midnight. Tobias plays every night except Friday from 7pm to 11pm at Captain’s Bar. And if you’re in the mood to serenade then go to Mushrif Bar on Mondays for Karaoke night from 9pm onwards.

EVERY FRIDAY 7pm onwards

jebelali-international.com

THE FRIDAY FRIDGE – LIVE LOCAL LOUD Live music from amazing local musicians every Friday at Wafi Rooftop, brought to you by our friends at The Fridge.

NOVEMBER 17 11pm onwards Electric Boutique presents PENDULUM (DJ SET) + MC VERSE PENDULUM and MC VERSE will play at the Main Room with support from Andy Buchan. Also check out DJ Bliss & Mr Shef Codes on the Rooftop, and EJaz in the Studio. AED100 before midnight, AED130 after midnight. For table bookings call 0506245751.

thefridgedubai.com

EVERY TUESDAY 9:30pm onwards GET BACK Free entry all night, free drinks for ladies, classic funk, soul, hip hop, disco, boogie, 80s. Music from DUST DJs James Locksmith and Megadon Betamax. Catwalk, Golden Tulip Al Barsha

LAST CALL

WHY, OH WHY, DO WE ASK WHY?. I woke up early today to the sound of my daily triad of wake up calls; my phone, my watch-ulator and the most boisterous of the three – my double bell alarm clock that could pass as a fire warning system. I zombied myself to my window which has a lovely vantage point of my building’s picturesque parking lot and saw the army of cars were still there; unmoved and inanimate. ‘Early..’ I reassured myself, as I crept back and slept again. Shortly after, I somehow managed to fit in one of those wonderful (albeit half-conscious) dreams that usually cut off at the good parts as you wake up for a millisecond, grunt, and go back to halfarsed sleeping as the dream continues on. The process repeats until I actually wake up and I can’t go back to sleep anymore. It happens to me a lot these days. I always try and squeeze the sweet juice out of them. I mean, why not? When your reality is not as ideal as you would want it to be, literally living the dream would be preferable. If only I can do just that. Well I couldn’t. So I got up in a grumpy partially asleep kind of way and that’s when I decided to hit the shower. It was warm just the way I like it. It feels nice and refreshing as it makes that sound; the sound that could make do for a rain deprived desert dweller such as I am. That was as calm as it can get. Some might call it habit, some putting your best (cleanest) foot forward. And much like the outpour of water that buffeted me, torrents of uncertainty suddenly started flooding me. Tshhhhh… ‘Why am I doing this? Why do I even believe I have to do this? What for?’ … Tshhhh Tshh ‘Why do people even care about hygiene? It’s only a matter of time when we would get dirty again anyway.’ It’s true for me; it’s only a matter of hours. You can call it a bad day or a person that woke up at the wrong side of the bed but the questions didn’t stop pouring, long after I finished my bathroom business.

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I started asking myself out loud like a crazy person. I might have even been asking my own head thinking it might have gotten a consciousness of its own. Maybe I was, in a way, talking to that someone that is almighty and conveniently invisible; in hopes of fishing for a random epiphany. But I guess there weren’t many fish in that particular sea. ‘Gah! What’s the motive? What’s the reward? What’s in it in the long run? And why am I talking to myself?!’ Old people say the finish line is the same for all of us. No matter how fast or slow you thread in this squiggly dirt path, it’ll be the same thing waiting for us anyway. My head hurt real bad as I dried myself up completely. I reached for my wardrobe and realized another question – probably the only worry that some lucky and blessed individuals have in their daily lives – the wardrobe inquisition. I settled for a plain grey shirt and some comfy slacks and called it that. I was set; ready to go paint the town bloody red and conquer the burning day. Shit like that. Yet, I decided to have one last glance at the mirror before I head out the door. I saw my own eyes examine me thoroughly but most importantly I saw the first legit answer of the day staring me down. I have so much questions and I have more of it where it came from but I stumbled upon a slight revelation and it hit me. Granted, I don’t believe in a lot of stuff – but I actually do believe in something. The answer is me. And as I did those things, I somehow acted upon the only belief that I should be truly sure of – myself. And I reckoned that explained it all – the trivial and the not so trivial shit we do. I guess we praise ourselves in living and not just waiting for it to end; putting in mind that we are better than a dream, an idea or a concept. I guess that’s the way it should be. I still wasn’t really sure at that time if it made any sense at all but it was a start, you know. And with it, I exited dramatically through the front door and said farewell to my shitty flat with a proud grin. Because I believe that it is what people that I would believe in do.

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