The Big Issue Australia #665 - The Prince and I

Ed.

665 08 JUL 2022

HOMELESS MEMORIAL MYSTERY ROAD and THE FUGGEREI

xx.

THE

PRINCE AND I

Dave Welcomes William on Pitch

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NATIONAL OFFICE Chief Executive Officer Steven Persson

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Contents

EDITION

665 22 THE BIG PICTURE

Forever Homes Within the German city of Augsburg lies the Fuggerei, the world’s oldest social housing complex, which hasn’t raised the rent for 500 years.

26 Light in the Dark

12.

‘Why I Sold The Big Issue’

by The Duke of Cambridge

Inspired by his mother Princess Diana, Prince William takes to the streets of London to sell The Big Issue. His co-vendor is Dave, who sits down for a Q&A with the prince. And our Australian vendors reveal what they would do if they were in William’s shoes for a day. cover and contents photo by Andy Parsons / The Big Issue UK

THE REGULARS

04 05 06 08 11 29

Ed’s Letter, Your Say Meet Your Vendor Streetsheet Hearsay & 20 Questions My Word Ricky

36 37 38 39 41 42

Film Reviews 44 Puzzles Small Screen Reviews 45 Crossword Music Reviews 46 Click Book Reviews Public Service Announcement Tastes Like Home

Every year hundreds of Australians die on the streets or in homeless shelters. Their deaths unacknowledged, unmourned. Sydney’s Homeless Memorial Service commemorates and celebrates those who have passed.

30 SMALL SCREENS

The Road Taken Actor Mark Coles Smith brings something new to the role of Detective Jay Swan in Mystery Road: Origin – a smile.

HRH’s Letter

by The Duke of Cambridge @kensingtonroyal

Prince William Writes

Dear Vendor, A few weeks ago, I stood in your shoes joining an amazing Big Issue vendor in selling magazines in central London. I did so because after years of learning about the challenges many of you face, I wanted to see the other side – how each and every one of you are taking the steps to set your lives on a different path by building your own small businesses.

The reality was even more inspiring than I’d anticipated. However, a different reality also dawned on me: that even as you work tirelessly to better yourselves, many people looked straight through you. Lives are often so busy these days with people rushing from meeting to meeting, school drop-off to desk, that we aren’t able to see what’s happening around us. And I saw the consequence that could have on your own sense of worth.

Added to that, I know the past two years have been particularly tough because of the huge dip in sales as a result of the pandemic. I hope business is now starting to pick up again, and that you’re getting back on your feet.

Finally, please know that I am thinking of you all and will continue to do so, not just now in the [European] summer months but also when the winter starts to bite, and you are still out there selling.

With my best wishes,

William PS: I hope I don’t hamper your sales too much this week!!

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THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

The Big Issue Story The Big Issue is an independent, not-for-profit magazine sold on the streets around Australia. It was created as a social enterprise 25 years ago to provide both a voice and a work opportunity for people experiencing homelessness and disadvantage. Your purchase of this magazine has directly benefited the person who sold it to you. Big Issue vendors buy each copy for $4.50 and sell it to you for $9, keeping the profits. But The Big Issue is more than a magazine.

Your Say LETTER OF THE FORTNIGHT

Your edition Love Libraries (Ed#663) filled my heart with joy. Excitedly I read every article, with tears in my eyes agreeing with the sentiments expressed. I love libraries. I love The Big Issue. I love the magic of both.

Thank you to all who contribute – vendors, authors, Women’s Subscription Enterprise and staff!

BRENDA O’LEARY CARRUM I VIC

I love Ricky French’s Big Issue columns and have been meaning to write for ages to thank him for introducing me to parkrun. I love parkrun. It gets me up on Saturday, gives me a low-key social activity to start my weekend and a motivation to keep jogging through the week. I love it that the competition is really against your own time from last week, though I also chase the other people that I’m running near. I love it that I come in right in the middle of the 25-to-35-minute bell curve and it is good to just be average and part of the crowd. When I started, I fretted that I wasn’t going very fast, until I volunteered and realised that everyone who turns up and finishes is valued.

LINDY JEFFREE ST LUCIA I QLD

• Our Women’s Subscription Enterprise provides employment and training for women through the sale of magazine subscriptions as well as social procurement work.

• The Community Street Soccer Program promotes social inclusion and good health at weekly soccer games at 24 locations around the country.

• The Vendor Support Fund will offset the cost price of products for vendors, allowing them to earn a larger margin on their own street sales.

• The Big Issue Education workshops provide school, tertiary and corporate groups with insights into homelessness and disadvantage, and provide work opportunities for people experiencing marginalisation.

CHECK OUT ALL THE DETAILS AT THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

Brenda wins a copy of Rosheen Kaul and Joanna Hu’s new cookbook Chinese-ish. You can check out their recipe on page 42. We’d also love to hear your feedback and suggestions: SUBMISSIONS@BIGISSUE.ORG.AU

YOUR SAY SUBMISSIONS MAY BE EDITED FOR CLARITY AND SPACE.

Meet Your Vendor I grew up in Sydney but have moved a lot since then. I lived in Canberra and then spent 12 years on the Gold Coast. I’m in Brisbane now and I love it here. It’s fantastic, and I love that the people here are happy.

I have dyslexia and so school was difficult for me. I failed my exams in high school, but amazingly, due to my art ability, I got into university. I studied art and drama, which is why I’m so jovial. I hop foot to foot and sing and dance when I’m selling too. If people want a song, I’ll sing them a song. I like to sing mostly rhythm and blues, opera, and a bit of Michael Jackson and Frank Sinatra.

I love all forms of art. I can paint, draw, sketch…everything.

I majored in pottery and that’s what I’m best at. I spend a lot of my free time making clay pots. I was considering selling my clay pots for a living, but I ended up selling The Big Issue instead.

Before The Big Issue, I was working at the RSL selling raffle tickets, but because of my dyslexia I couldn’t read the script properly. I started selling magazines after meeting a lovely vendor named Tony. He told me he was selling magazines that support the homeless and disadvantaged and I said, “I could get into that.” I have been doing it for six months now.

I sell five days a week at the Post Office Square.

Everyone knows me there, and they deliver me wonderful presents and gifts. I have heaps of regulars.

Every single day people walk past that know me and say hello. They make me feel like I’m part of the community. I feel like I belong somewhere, and that I’m finally a piece of a puzzle.

I started selling the magazine to save up for my wedding this October. I met my fiancée Helen in November 2020 at the Baptist Church. I heard her sing, and she sounded like an angel. I knew she was the one for me and I asked her out a few months later.

I’ve saved $15,000 for the wedding so far, and that’s from The Big Issue alone. I can’t wait to get married, and after we do, we’re going on a trip to Tasmania.

I’m 100 per cent reliant on my income from The Big Issue; I use it to pay for everything. It’s crucial that people understand that you can make a living, you can earn a wage, and that this is an actual job.

After my wedding, my next dream is to use the money to buy a home in Newstead.

There are two loves in my life: my fiancée and The Big Issue. I feel grateful. Grateful to be alive and grateful that every magazine I sell, I feel like I’m a part of something great.

SELLS THE BIG ISSUE AT THE POST OFFICE SQUARE, BRISBANE

PROUD UNIFORM PARTNER OF THE BIG ISSUE VENDORS.

05

08 JUL 2022

interview by Lilian Bernhardt photo by Barry Street

Tallis

Streetsheet

Stories, poems and pictures by Big Issue vendors and friends

Football’s Not the Same VALE MICHAEL

Farewell, Mr Perthonality

I remember A time When football was cheap And names like Ebert, McIntosh, Jarman Kernahan, Cornes, Kerley Were about the place But slowly they moved away From the suburban grounds And football got centralised And they changed the rules And they increased the prices Now the average family Can’t afford to go And since the coronavirus Football’s not the same And will it ever be again?

Someone with money has to do something!

If we want our clubs to survive!

06

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

W

e recently heard the very sad news of the passing of Michael R. Michael was a dearly loved member of The Big Issue family, and the wider Perth community.

A vendor since 2009, Michael was a true “Perthonality”. For years, Michael greeted morning train commuters from his pitch on Myer Bridge, always smiling and friendly, always with time for a chat (although you often had to wait your turn as Michael seemed to know everybody). With his love of fancy dress and joyful spirit, Michael brightened up the morning for hundreds

of people on their way to work – seeing a happy face and hearing a heartfelt “good morning” was a treat.

Michael was an engaging storyteller, full of tales about his childhood in India and his travels before settling in Perth. I don’t know anyone else that’s been face to face with a tiger or been on a blind date with Miss World!

Although unable to work recently due to his health, Michael will be remembered and missed by everyone at The Big Issue, and all those whose days he made a bit brighter.

CHAD HEDLEY VENDOR SUPPORT I PERTH

PHOTO BY ROSS SWANBOROUGH

DANIEL K WAYMOUTH ST, HUTT ST I ADELAIDE

A Huge Help

Streets Ahead

Selling The Big Issue is helping me deal with a lot. Not only am I earning some extra money, but it’s also helping me with a lot of other issues that I am facing, like my mental health and other medical issues. It gets me out of my comfort zone and into the community, meeting different people. At times when I am feeling weak and tired and don’t feel like doing anything, my beautiful wife encourages me to work as she knows that working helps me – and after a few hours of work I am a different person.

The spruik that I normally use is, “Helping the disadvantaged help themselves with The Big Issue!” To me, that is what we are doing.

In Newtown, where I sell The Big Issue, streets are busy, especially around the weekend. Many people come along with their family to chill and relax. I find it rewarding to sell The Big Issue. I like my readers and I like new ideas to write about.

My hobby is soccer and I used to play every week.

BRADLEY CNR SWANSTON & LT COLLINS STS, CHELSEA & STUD PARK WOOLWORTHS I MELBOURNE

HAIDAR NEWTOWN I SYDNEY

You Oughta Know Alanis Morrisette’s musical Jagged Little Pill. Where do I begin?

From the onset I wasn’t expecting anything, thanks to the so-called critics. Boy were they wrong!

I was taken on an emotional roller‑coaster! The musicians and actors were awesome. I was very happy to be able to witness this spectacular show. I thoroughly

recommend it! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to go as I wouldn’t have been able to afford it. As one of the songs says, “you learn” about yourself!

KJ YOUNG & JACKSON, CNR FLINDERS & SWANSTON STS I MELBOURNE

Grateful People are grateful to have a job with The Big Issue. Some are in wheelchairs, some have mental health issues, some struggle with drugs and alcohol. But The Big Issue helps to improve our lives a little bit. The money that we earn isn’t going to change the world, but a few dollars can help with food and accommodation, at least. We are grateful for the people who buy the magazine.

TED J QUEENS PLAZA I BRISBANE

ALL VENDOR CONTRIBUTORS TO STREETSHEET ARE PAID FOR THEIR WORK.

Simon’s Little Helper On the weekends I sell at Semaphore IGA – it is right by my house and the beach, so it is the perfect place to work. My customers are awesome, and I like having new customers buy from me. I always have good experiences with my customers; I get positive feedback on my Square card reader. One time I got tipped $50. When it is a pleasant day, I bring my dog Coco to work. She is a miniature dachshundcross-chihuahua. She is nine years old. I put a costume on her, a devil outfit, and refer to her as Satan’s Little Helper.

Customers ask me if I have been in the magazine before, so I always keep a copy of the Rock edition (#642) that has my Streetsheet in it. I recently invested in a camp chair and bluetooth speaker, so I set it up and work all day.

SIMON IGA SEMAPHORE I ADELAIDE

SPONSORED BY LORD MAYOR’S CHARITABLE FOUNDATION. COMMUNITY PHILANTHROPY MAKING A DIFFERENCE IN GREATER MELBOURNE AND BEYOND.

07

08 JUL 2022

SIMON AND HIS SELLING ASSISTANT

Hearsay

Andrew Weldon Cartoonist

Twiddle a knob and make a face.

“Our fridges are bare because we can’t afford fresh fruit and vegies.”

Jennifer Doecke from Euabalong in western NSW, on the rising cost of living for remote communities, where shoppers can pay up to three times more than city dwellers for some items: green beans, for example, can cost $36 a kilo, but $11 in Sydney.

ABC I AU

“I am a murderer. I’m a lover. I have the capacity for great empathy and I can devolve into pettiness.”

Profoundly Brad Pitt.

GQ I US

The musician known as Fatboy Slim (Norman Cook to his folks) while giving a government-funded mental health DJing classes.

THE GUARDIAN I UK

“They were dirty, they were wet, and they fought with each other, which is not what we expect from our national symbols.”

Photographer Klaus Nigge on his deep respect for the wild bald eagles of Alaska’s Aleutian Islands. No peaceful, easy feelings.

08

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC I US

“I knew it when he was four months old. He just had a lot of presence, a ‘Hey, look at me’ attitude.”

David Fitzpatrick, breeder, handler and co-owner of Wasabi, a Pekingese who was named best in show last year at the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show – and who’s now retired, gone to the dogs, at just four years of age.

THE NEW YORK TIMES I US

“At that final time, nearly everyone ran outside to see the launch and watch in awe. Even after we lost sight of the rocket, people

stood outside for such a long time.”

Astrophysicist Brad Tucker, from ANU, on the launch of the first NASA rocket from Australia’s space launchpad in the Northern Territory.

CNN I US

“I couldn’t do a movie where I have to, like, eat the arm off a child.”

Actor Caleb Landry Jones on why violent roles are not for him – despite having just played mass murderer Martin Bryant on screen in Nitram.

NME I UK

“I remember seeing the big lines outside gun shops and that was this moment where I went, ‘I need to get a flight back home.’ You can’t shoot a virus.”

Former Neighbours actor Remi Hii on why he decided to move home to Sydney from the US at the beginning of the pandemic.

THE DAILY TELEGRAPH I AU

“In the night, whilst we’re in a deep sleep, they visit the pores [on our faces] to have sex and have babies.”

Dr Alejandra Perotti, from the University of Reading, on demodex folliculorum, the “very tiny and cute” mites that live and breed on your face – and which are now facing extinction, as a new study has found their DNA is eroding. Phew!

BBC I UK

“For some people, when you look at it on an X-ray, it looks like a windscreen shattering.”

Dr Sarah White, director of Quit Victoria, on the lung damage and inflammation caused by vaping.

ABC I AU

“I know there is a bit of an annoying gene in there. I’m a bit of a squeaky wheel.”

U2 frontman Bono saying out loud what a lot of people have been thinking for some time.

THE IRISH TIMES I IE

“We’ve got to show them our pecs.”

UK PM Boris Johnson enquiring whether the G7 leaders should do a Vladimir Putin and all pose barechested on horse-back. Thankfully, they kept their shirts on.

THE NEW DAILY I AU

20 Questions

by Rachael Wallace

01 Who is Australia’s Deputy Prime

Minister?

02 If you were born on 30 April, what is

your star sign?

03 Which heritage-listed site was once

known as Pinchgut Island?

04 The TV drama The Secret Life of Us

was set in which suburb and city?

05 What does VPL stand for?

06 Which Australian author writes

children’s fiction under the pseudonyms of Emily Rodda and Mary-Anne Dickinson?

07 Luang Prabang is a UNESCO

World Heritage-listed site in which country?

08 Who was the first person to be

named the US National Youth Poet Laureate?

09 In Indonesian, what do the words

THE DAILY TELEGRAPH I AU

“We have a big problem with rats.

We even have names for them: George is as big as a Yorkshire terrier, so big he can’t even run. It’s no joke.”

Kathleenanne Boswell, youth worker for a Traveller organisation in Yorkshire, England, on the dire living conditions that her community faces.

“It smelled like gas. I’m not sure if it was tear gas or pepper spray.

Then some people died and I also fell asleep for three hours.”

A South African girl describes a bouncer at an East London nightclub spraying the air. Police were called and found 21 people dead, under mysterious circumstances, slumped over chairs and tables and on the floor.

“The toki was almost like an environmental ambassador, it helped create a good environment for itself.”

Masaoki Tsuchiya, who has vigilantly monitored the resurrection of the toki, a bird on Japan’s Sado island, which had become all but extinct.

AL JAZEERA I QA

DAILY SABAH I TR

AL JAZEERA I QA

FREQUENTLY OVERHEAR TANTALISING TIDBITS? DON’T WASTE THEM ON YOUR FRIENDS SHARE THEM WITH THE WORLD AT SUBMISSIONS@BIGISSUE.ORG.AU

“satu, dua, tiga” mean?

10 What is the collective noun for

giraffes?

11 Which two people were on the

Australian $2 note?

12 What is the next line of the national

anthem, following: “Australians all let us rejoice…”?

13 Which famous university is located

in Paris’s Latin Quarter?

14 Which country was the first to have

a woman elected as prime minister?

15 What award-winning Australian

film is based on the true story of three young Martu girls named Molly, Daisy and Gracie?

16 Ego Is Not a Dirty Word is an album

and song by which band?

17 Who is Montero Lamar Hill better

known as?

18 What word in the English language

comes from the phrase “God be with ye”?

19 “Mozart! Mozart!” were said to be

the last words of which composer: a) Gustav Mahler, b) Frédéric Chopin c) Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart or d) Ludwig van Beethoven?

20 True or false? Eel and squid are the

two most popular pizza toppings in Japan.

ANSWERS ON PAGE 44

08 JUL 2022

VULTURE I US

“I think the numbers dropping off are because of the sex abuse scandals. It’s what I hear over and over again.”

Rev Bill Crews, a Uniting Church minister, confronts the Census finding that for the first time fewer than half of all Australians are Christian.

09

“I just don’t feel like doing too “I never wanted much this time to learn to drive. around because I thought I’d get kidnapped…or crash. I’m just exhausted with everybody.

Cars are scary.”

I’m so tired of Overheard by Aaron at people not doing Prahran Station, Vic. their fucking job correctly, I’m so tired of people just doing things their way. I’m just over it, you know what I’m saying?”

Cardi B on not making a video for her new single ‘Hot Shit’ – well, we think that’s what she’s saying.

EAR2GROUND

My Word

by Michelle Law @ms_michellelaw

H

ere’s your birthday present!” I said, handing my best friend Corrie a bloated gift bag. We were at a hot pot restaurant in Sydney, catching up properly for the first time in two-and-a-half years. I could see her struggling under the weight of the bag, her eyes widening with shock. “Oh, your Christmas present is in there too,” I explained. “And actually, so is your birthday present from 2020 that was too hefty to send in the post.”

I watched her face light up as she unwrapped an eclectic mix of gifts: novelty candles, a ceramic pumpkin and Harry Potter-themed skincare – a collection of treasures referencing inside jokes shared between long-time friends.

“When did you get this?” said Corrie, unwrapping the next layer in her pass-the-parcel for one. She held up a paperweight featuring a design of a cartoon panda. I stared at it through the steam of the bubbling hot pot, my thoughts drifting as I attempted to pinpoint moments in time during repeated lockdowns. “I…can’t remember,” I said. “I guess at some point during 2019 to 2022?”

Corrie and I have known each other for a decade. We met through work and became instant friends – bonding over our shared cultural background, a similar work ethic and a passion for pop culture. She’s my oldest and closest friend – more family than anything – and despite living in different states, we’d normally see each other at least once a month as we both travel a lot. Or, I should say, we used to travel a lot. COVID changed that.

During the pandemic our friendship went entirely online. It was a sudden shift from noisy chats over bubble teas, gossip sessions over bowls of noodles, and movie nights gripping mugs of peppermint tea, to disembodied FaceTime calls, Zoom sessions and texts. At the beginning of lockdown, we’d message each other as normal, trying to keep abreast of each other’s daily lives. “What’s for dinner?” we’d text. “What was your one-hour of outdoor time today?” As the existential malaise of lockdowns set in, our messages slowed. “What’s new?” we’d ask every several days. “Are you drinking most nights, too?”

Eventually, our check-ins became weekly and fortnightly, one of us texting the other flatly, “Are you still alive?”

Being pen pals didn’t compare to spending time together in person and having shared adventures. I soon

realised that travelling together over the past 10 years was what cemented our friendship. I missed crashing on each other’s couches during work trips; showing each other stupid memes at airport gates to kill time; working together silently in hotel foyers; finding Korean bone broth restaurants to soothe our jetlag; and cackling as we heard each other’s bowel movements in shared hotel rooms. (Okay, maybe I don’t miss that so much.)

People often say that you never know if a romantic relationship will last until you’ve travelled together, and the same goes for friendships. Because while travel can bring out the best in us – our adventurousness, our adaptiveness, our tolerance – it can also bring out our very worst, like our anxieties, inflexibility and impatience. Over the years, Corrie and I have had our fair share of fights on trips, namely over her needing sub-zero air conditioning to sleep comfortably, and me thinking out loud and disturbing the peace, but they tend to blow over quickly.

Still, I worried that those shared experiences mightn’t be enough for our friendship to withstand the traumas of a global pandemic. Like many people, our mental health had become shaky over repeated lockdowns, and it took enough energy trying to care for ourselves, let alone maintain a friendship.

So when we made plans to see each other for dinner, I was worried that things wouldn’t be the same. We’d spent so much of our friendship in each other’s pockets and now we were firmly out of sync with each other’s lives.

During the pandemic, I’d moved house, become an aunt, met my boyfriend and got reading glasses. And Corrie had directed two TV shows, got a family dog, was saving up for a house deposit and had gone to several hot pot dinners without me – a criminal act. And yet, as we sat down to dinner with our respective partners and unloaded to each other, it was as if no time had passed at all.

Now, we’re back to texting each other daily with the inane happenings of our lives as we try to navigate living through a pandemic. We’ve even started talking about the next trips we’ll take. At the moment, I’m planning to fly to Melbourne to hang out with Corrie. She’s agreed to fork out for one night in a fancy hotel, but this time we won’t have to share the room and hear each other on the toilet.

That’s the one thing I’m glad has changed.

Michelle Law is an award-winning writer and performer.

Her work includes the play Single Asian Female and the travel advice book Asian Girls Are Going Places.

11

Michelle Law catches up with her travel buddy for the first time since COVID – and there’s a lot to unpack.

08 JUL 2022

Going Places

Why I Sold The Big Issue Prince William on why he took to the streets to sell The Big Issue, inspired by the memory of his mother.

by The Duke Of Cambridge

12

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

@kensingtonroyal

PRINCE WILLIAM SELLS THE BIG ISSUE IN LONDON

A hardworking, funny, joyful man, Dave is the kind of person we should all be actively encouraging and supporting. Instead, people often just ignore him. And while The Big Issue provides a mechanism by which Dave can provide for himself, earn a living and – in his words – regain some self-respect, it is reliant on us playing our part too.

Because he can succeed only if we recognise him, we see him and we support him.

If you’re reading this, then it’s because you’ve met someone like Dave who needed your help and you chose to offer it.

With that small act of kindness, you’ve made a difference. And I hope you continue to PRINCESS DIANA, do that while encouraging those around you HARRY AND WILLIAM AT to do the same in the future – to see the person A HOMELESS SHELTER IN 1993 behind the red tabard [vest], or the cardboard sign, or the empty cup.

I count myself extremely lucky to have a role that allows me to meet people from all walks of life, and to understand their full story – whatever it may be. It’s a privilege that many of us, busy with our days, don’t always afford.

And while I may seem like one of the most unlikely advocates for this cause, I have always believed in using my platform to help tell those stories and to bring attention and action to those who are struggling. I plan to do that now I’m turning 40, even more than I have in the past.

So, for my part, I commit to continue doing what I can to shine a spotlight on this solvable issue not just today, but in the months and years to come.

And in the years ahead, I hope to bring George, Charlotte and Louis to see the fantastic organisations doing inspiring work to support those most in need – just as my mother did for me.

As she instinctively knew, and as I continue to try to highlight, the first step to fixing a problem is for everyone to see it for what it truly is.

08 JUL 2022

The Big Issue has undeniably had an impact.

13

PHOTOS BY ANDY PARSONS AND COURTESY THE PASSAGE

I

was 11 when I first visited a homeless shelter with my mother, who in her own inimitable style was determined to shine a light on an overlooked, misunderstood problem.

The Big Issue had launched just two years before, offering people the opportunity to earn a legitimate income by selling a magazine to the public and providing a solution to the issues that saw a growing number of people on the streets of the nation’s capital.

In the 30-odd years since, I’ve seen countless projects in this space grow from strength to strength, including charities of which I have had the honour of being patron. New initiatives have been launched up and down the country – some have worked, some have not. But The Big Issue, perhaps now the most immediately recognisable of these organisations, has undeniably had an impact. Its social business model has provided a means of making a living to vendors. [The Big Issue Australia has helped 7000 vendors earn more than $34 million.]

Looking back helps us to see how far we’ve come, but problems are fixed in the present. And despite all the progress, homelessness is still seen by many as some entrenched phenomenon over which we have little power. And there are worrying signs that things might soon get worse as people feel the effects of higher prices and find it harder to make ends meet.

And although we can’t fix all of that at once, I refuse to believe that homelessness is an irrevocable fact of life. It is an issue that can be solved, but which requires a continued focus and comprehensive support network.

Thankfully there are brilliant, compassionate people working tirelessly to support those who find themselves in that vulnerable position and to provide opportunity when it is most needed.

And people up and down the country perform small acts of kindness as they purchase a street magazine or make a donation to someone on the street before proceeding on with their day.

I wanted to experience the other side and see what it was like to be a Big Issue vendor. My time was truly eye-opening.

I was lucky to join Dave on a warm, sunny day in June. People recognised a familiar face and were happy to give me the time of day. But that isn’t the case for the vast majority of Big Issue vendors, who sell year-round – including through the bleak winter months – and are barely given a second glance by passers-by.

We Can Prevent Homelessness Big Issue vendor Dave sits down for a post-selling debrief with Prince William.

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fter the Duke of Cambridge and vendor Dave spent an afternoon on the streets of London, where they sold 32 copies of The Big Issue, they head to The Passage, a centre that supports people experiencing homelessness. It was here, in 1993, that Princess Diana brought her young sons to give them a sense of the world outside palace walls, and where they would talk and play board games with residents. Today, William is a patron. It was here, too, that Dave came when he needed help when sleeping rough a decade ago.

Dave: How did you feel selling The Big Issue?

William: I really enjoyed it. I could have spent many more hours out there with you.

Dave: Why did you want to do this today?

William: The Big Issue is something that’s been around for a long time. It is part of UK history. I think at times it’s had peaks and troughs in terms of its visibility. People don’t know enough about it. The fact that we’ve been through a pandemic, and realising what that’s done for The Big Issue, but also for homelessness, how much that’s troubled everything.

Dave: I lost a lot of sales for, I call it, COVID reasons. People shop online or they don’t go to the store so often. And actually, there’s still people scared to come out. Today was quiet to begin with and then all of a sudden, it’s like crazy.

William: I was surprised how many people actually spotted me wearing a Big Issue tabard [vest] standing outside Sainsbury’s. I can walk down the street with a baseball cap on and nobody would pay attention. But everyone was really friendly, weren’t they? I’m conscious that I got the easy version in the summer sunshine.

Dave: What would you have done if it was raining?

William: I’d have still come out, don’t worry Dave. Ever since I came here, with my mother, homelessness has stuck with

me as an issue I want to fight for. I’ve done everything I can to raise the profile of the homeless, and I want to do a lot more.

Dave: I’ve heard somebody’s got a birthday coming up. Are you 21 again?

William: I’d like to be 21 again, Dave. The big four-zero.

Getting on a bit now.

Dave: You’re still young. I’m 60.

William: Sixty? Are you? You don’t look a day over 50. I felt my birthday was a good opportunity. I wanted to make sure we were highlighting something that matters to me. Off the back of Everyone In [the scheme that brought all rough sleepers off the streets during the pandemic], it started to feel that actually this issue isn’t quite as big to tackle as we think. But it feels like it’s gone back to what it was before the pandemic. We can fix it. It is possible to – I never want to say completely end homelessness, because every day something else might happen for someone – but get on top of it more than we have done.

Dave: How would you do that?

William: It’s a good question. How do you bring together all the best people like The Passage, Centrepoint, Big Issue who know this area very well? How do you build something that’s got legs and can deliver support packages to allow individuals to come out the other end standing on their own two feet? That’s what I’ll be trying to do. How would you fix homelessness, if you had the power?

Dave: Get all the homeless off the street, get them accommodation. Give them support and help to move on in their life. That’s the first thing I’d do.

William: Sounds like a good idea.

Dave: A lot of day centres have closed. Would that be a good idea to open them up?

William: You know, I’m not the expert. But there’s no doubt about it, more support at the sharp end is needed. Rather

We have to tackle all this to help humanise those who are living with homelessness.

William: This is what got you back on your feet, selling The Big Issue?

Dave: It got me off the street. Gave me respect. I was begging at the time. Another vendor said I could be doing something a lot better and took me along to The Big Issue office. Hey presto, I’ve been doing it for 11 years now.

William: When I speak to you or anyone who’s been living on the streets, you start to see the human and the difficulties you’ve been through. There’s still some taboo about homelessness. I think the mental health side of things frightens people. We have to tackle all this to help humanise those who are living with homelessness. Many people would not be able to fare as well as you have to get through.

Dave: A few people didn’t fare so well.

William: That’s the sad thing. Many don’t. But if there was some way of being able to talk more openly about these

08 JUL 2022

than the firefighting going on – brilliantly done in lots of areas – it would be good to bring everyone together and have it a bit more streamlined and coordinated. Look ahead as much as we can as well and prevent homelessness, as much as curing what’s going on right now.

Dave: There’s a lot of, excuse the pun, issues with why people become homeless. Could be family, could be a multitude of reasons. So as you say, you need to address all those problems together.

William: Can I ask how you found yourself in the situation where you were living on the streets?

Dave: Well, I mean it first started when I was five and my mum died. I got pushed around different families and care hostels, that sort of thing. Then I decided to come to London.

Obviously, come here and you’ll make it. And you don’t. I found myself on the street.

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PHOTO BY ANDY PARSONS

PRINCE WILLIAM

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

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stories, to show people the real challenges you’ve faced, I think a lot of people would be like, okay, I can now see why people end up where they do.

Dave: That’s right. You try to engage with people. Perhaps they don’t know how to approach you. I see some members of the public engage with the homeless and when that happens, you’ll see their face light up. They’ve got someone to talk to.

William: I’m fortunate enough that I get to see the best of people whenever I meet them. They give me their best side.

Dave, you probably get to see the worst in people.

Dave: Sometimes, yeah. I’m fortunate that I’ve built up my pitch over the years and it is quite a friendly place. But I’ve heard of vendors getting spat at and a lot of verbal abuse.

William: I’m lucky because I am who I am. Often, people are happy to talk to me. We’ve got to push back on the normality that is popping in your wireless earphones and wandering down the street, listening to music or on a phone.

In a city, you walk past hundreds of people every day and you don’t even look at them. Wouldn’t it be nice to find out a bit more about the people either side of you? That way, people would be a bit more understanding, a bit more tolerant of what everyone’s had to deal with.

Dave: They probably get to hear about the bad stuff rather than the good stuff. “Oh, I heard this vendor did that, I better not approach them.”

William: When you’re selling The Big Issue, I think people feel they can approach you. But if someone’s sleeping rough on the streets, that’s a different thing isn’t it?

Dave: The Big Issue has done Night Walks before, to take the public around where homeless people sleep to try and explain the situation. We try and get people to understand.

William: It’s about respect. People who are homeless can’t rebuild their life without a number of things. And one of those things is respect and self-respect. And that’s what The Big Issue gives you.

Dave: That’s right.

William: It’s a good start to get yourself back on your feet where you feel like: I matter.

Dave: Gives you pride...something to aim for.

William: You’ve got something each day you know you’ve got to do – a bit of structure. Everyone needs a little bit of structure in their life, don’t they?

Dave: So how did you find the Jubilee?

William: It was a lovely weekend, thanks. It was a moment of national unity, I felt. I think it brought a lot of people together. I think it made everyone feel a bit better about themselves after a difficult couple of years.

Dave: I saw a picture of The Mall. It was just chock-a-block with people.

William: Chock-a-block. Red, white and blue everywhere. It was really good to see.

Dave: The best bit I liked about the celebrations was the flypast.

William: Did you get to see it?

Dave: Unfortunately I was working. I saw highlights. I should have said, yes, I did see it.

William: No you shouldn’t. Because that’s the point. You need to work. You were telling me, you do seven days a week?

Dave: Yeah.

William: Every week?

Dave: Every week. Then hopefully I can take a bit of time off at the weekend. Depends how the sales go.

Dave, an artist, gives William a set of postcards of his work.

William: You’re a good doodler. It’s quite abstract, isn’t it?

Does it represent anything to you?

Dave: I always leave it down to the eye of the beholder.

William: I studied a bit of art history at university. Had to give it up. I kept falling asleep in the lectures. Terrible. We did a lot of Renaissance, which was amazing. But then once we got into modern art, I started to get a bit dozy.

Dave: I can introduce you to modern art.

William: Yours are more interesting. I like to have a story behind the artist.

Before they part ways, Dave has one final question.

Dave: When are we going to do this again? We’ll do 50 next time, at least!

William: Honestly, I really enjoyed it. Thank you for looking after me. When you first do it, I can see it’s daunting. You just don’t quite know what’s going to happen or how it’s going to go.

by Steven MacKenzie The Big Issue UK

PHOTOS BY ANDY PARSONS. FIRST PUBLISHED IN THE BIG ISSUE UK, ED #1518, BIGISSUE.COM @BIGISSUE

@stevenmackenzie

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ess than a week after a global audience of hundreds of millions celebrated the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee, Prince William is standing outside a supermarket and passers-by are passing by. He’s still wearing a bright red uniform like he had on for Trooping the Colour. But instead of a ceremonial military outfit and medals, it’s a Big Issue vest and badge.

Next to him stands Dave, a veteran vendor who volunteered to show the Duke of Cambridge the ropes and give a glimpse into the life of a Big Issue vendor.

A decade ago, Rochester Row in Victoria was one of the places Dave sold magazines when he first came to The Big Issue. He’s adept at putting the new recruit at his ease. After donning his vest, William is handed a bundle of magazines and briefed on how to accept cash and card payments, then the pair set off.

At first, business is slow. Nobody takes much notice of the vendors – a feeling familiar to many who make their living on the streets – but Dave shares some selling tips and soon the sales start coming.

A Royal Mail employee, who probably spotted some family resemblance from stamps, is one of the first customers. There are double-takes and swerving bike couriers rubbernecking the new vendor.

Neil Kramer is charging his taxi on the opposite side of the street – a captive customer. Dave and William cross over to secure a sale. I ask Neil about their technique. “He said, ‘Would you like to buy a Big Issue?

You look like you’re a generous man.’”

Was he right?

“Yeah, my wife and I do buy The Big Issue. As they both left, I wished them luck and then pinched myself.”

A queue has started to form. There’s a group of Colombian and Ecuadorian students who can’t believe they’ve met a royal on the street; a young girl and her mother pose for a picture. “Happy Jubilee!” they shout.

Lots of people want to shake hands, snap a selfie and have a chat, which William allows – if they buy a mag.

Brian, who’s involved with the Prince’s Trust, jots down his number on the back of a shopping receipt and William promises to look him up.

As is often the case, Big Issue customers cut right across society. Some were among the throngs that joined the Jubilee celebrations the previous weekend, amazed to have their own private audience with the future king.

Some have a history of homelessness themselves.

A woman and her mother introduce themselves.

Later on, William shares their story. “We met two Ukrainian refugees,” he explains. “The daughter lives here, she’s brought her mum from Kyiv. Sadly they’ve lost a number of family members and most of their property. The grandmother is still out there.”

The time Dave and William spent selling goes on longer than planned, but William calls for extra magazines and won’t leave until every copy is sold.

While he’s shifting his last few, I speak to another customer, Tolu Desalu. “I’m attached to a Christian church,” she says. “What we do is go into hospitals to visit patients who don’t have family. So this is bang up my street.

“I was having a bad day so I thought I’d just go for a walk, I had no destination. I was in Waitrose and I think the security guard thought I was trying to steal something – well not steal, but he said, ‘Why don’t you go to Tesco’s, it’s a lot cheaper’. Okay. Alright. Then somebody said to me Prince William’s around the corner standing outside Sainsbury’s. I thought yeah, of course…

Completely sold out, Dave and William call time.

Together they’ve sold 32 copies. “How long would it take for you to sell those normally?” William asks. In under an hour they’ve sold what it would usually take Dave half a week to sell.

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Here’s the inside story of what really happened when Prince William sold The Big Issue.

08 JUL 2022

The Prince and the Vendor

“I would make the world a better place to live in…”

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THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

Prince William was a Big Issue vendor for a day – but what if our vendors were royalty for a day? We asked them what they’d do.

Their answers are heartfelt, funny and world-changing.

If I were king, it would be about showing respect to everyone – all people. When people treat you with respect, it builds you up and you can deal with hardship, paranoia and anxiety.

DANNY SOUTHERN CROSS STATION I MELBOURNE

As Queen of the Commonwealth of Australia I hereby sentence you all! No talking allowed. No trading or bartering of any sort.

No trifling. You may be released upon good tiding, my darlings.

JOSH C PIRIE STREET I ADELAIDE

I would have Bon Jovi blasting through the palace. I would play with the corgis and ride horses.

I would have the chef cook me the biggest, most expensive lobster he can find. I would also have dinner at a very exclusive restaurant and do a dine and dash in my horse-drawn carriage.

EMMA DENDY CROSSING I CANBERRA

I would make the day a worldwide celebration and get The Big Issue vendors to dress up as me for the day.

MICHAEL L THE BODY SHOP, JAMES PLACE I ADELAIDE

I would do what I can to help the police and the fire brigade, and also help my friends and my partner Susan. I love everyone so I’d just like to help as many people as I can.

GEORGE PRESTON MARKET I MELBOURNE

I would make it law for all citizens to purchase The Big Issue. War and hate would be illegal, and homelessness would be just a memory.

DAVE S PARRAMATTA I SYDNEY

I would change the world for the better and have no crime on our streets. Everybody would have equal rights. I’d help the homeless off the streets and get them working in our community.

CAROLINE J LONDON COURT, ST GEORGES TCE I PERTH

VERNON STIRLING, CUMBERLAND PARK & NORTHPARK I ADELAIDE

I would go to Fiji and never come back. When I was eight my brothers, cousins and I went over with my mum, aunties, uncles and friends. I’d also go

I would set aside a day to acknowledge our First Nations people. As Australians we should stand side by side with our Aboriginal brothers and

“Marry my true love”

“BUILD HOMES FOR THE HOMELESS” sisters and learn from them. We should raise the Australian and the Indigenous flags together as one nation, healing the wounds of the past and moving on to a better future.

JIM G CBD I MELBOURNE

I would try caviar and go out and meet homeless people. I would also make my family sell The Big Issue, like Prince William.

EDDIE SHERWOOD SHOPS I BRISBANE

I would have a holiday home close to the beach and invite all the vendors from The Big Issue.

DAVID HWL HAIGH’S, RUNDLE MALL I ADELAIDE

Fluffy is my 15-year-old cat who is eating me out of house and home. He would get all sorts of nourishing food to eat. He could play in the garden and be patted to his heart’s content by Prince William’s children and lovely Kate.

FAY B UTS, CNR HARRIS & GEORGE STS I SYDNEY

I would give all homeless people a home.

TERESA H GPO I MELBOURNE

I would give everyone free food. I would marry my true love. I would give money to the Canberra Raiders so they can

win more. I would get rid of wars.

BRYAN JAMISON CENTRE I CANBERRA

I would give everyone the day off. I would also change Work for the Dole to mandatory military training. It will teach discipline and a new set of skills and responsibilities.

SIMON G HUNGRY JACK’S I ADELAIDE

I would expand The Big Issue into Tasmania as many people would benefit. We could ship the magazines over on the Spirit of Tasmania. I’d encourage people to become vendors.

And I’d eradicate COVID-19 by willing it away with my kingly powers.

MICHAEL PRAHRAN MARKET I MELBOURNE

I would make sure everybody had a home and access to a warm shower and food.

JANINE MEDIBANK, ADELAIDE ST I BRISBANE

I’d take my favourite horse and race it at Royal Ascot. I’d also like to give everyone on the dole or pension $50 extra a fortnight, as money today isn’t enough to make ends meet.

DANIEL K HUTT ST, WAYMOUTH ST, NORWOOD I ADELAIDE

08 JUL 2022

BRIAN W GLENELG, PALACE CINEMAS CITY I ADELAIDE

to Italy, Holland and America to visit family. I would stop wars.

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I would make the world a better place to live in. No more wars.

I would destroy all nuclear weapons and would tax the rich so small businesses didn’t have to pay as much tax.

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RACHEL PYRMONT I SYDNEY

I would give Indigenous Australians a wish list, anything they want. I’d like to make people feel secure – free healthcare, free dental and mental health care would be top priority. Free education, too. Everything needs to be accessible for people with disabilities. I would move people off the streets and into homes.

All the companies that “stole” money during the pandemic can pay back their JobKeeper. And we need to clean up the Earth, with solar and other renewables.

LOUIS SOUTH MELBOURNE MARKET I MELBOURNE

“Tax the rich”

I would put my portrait on all the Australian coins because then everyone would be thinking about me, and no-one would be able to get rid of me because I’d be in everyone’s pocket! Then I would introduce myself to Kong and say “Hey man, I’ve got your back!”

TONY GPO QUEEN STREET I BRISBANE

I would make all the corporates and politicians donate time and money. I would make selling The Big Issue compulsory for everyone.

MARCUS CONCORD I SYDNEY

I would make all politicians use a wheelchair to experience what it’s like. Then I would put them on the streets with little money and no housing. I want them to experience how hard it is. I would also make them tell the truth or they will be beheaded… ha ha ha!

CRAIG M RIALTO, COLLINS ST I MELBOURNE

I would sell all my jewellery and crown and I’d build homes for the homeless and low-income earners. And one or more of my palaces could become a shelter for those in need.

RUTH JAMES PLACE, RUNDLE MALL I ADELAIDE

I would have a party with my friends. I would have a nice car, go shopping and have a holiday in Hawaii, Paris and London.

TED J TOOWONG SHOPS I BRISBANE

I’d love to see people taking care of one another. Give the homeless a bed to sleep for the night. Help Foodbank give food to the needy. Try to make everyone smile.

KERRY-ANNE GPO ADELAIDE, ELIZABETH SHOPPING CENTRE, ZUMA CAFE, CENTRAL MARKET I ADELAIDE

I would not work and take the day off. I would drive around in a Skyline GT-R. ANGELICA BLACKWOOD I ADELAIDE

I would change myself into a not‑very-sensible, invisible, wish-nurturing presence. I would cast a translucent wishattracting opal cloud over this continent and its waterways, reefs and marine, air-borne and terrestrial areas and inhabitants.

Each river system, gulf, desert, city and bushland, and all that breathe, expire and inspire would have their dearest wish responded to and met.

MARIAN VICTORIA MARKET, ARTS CENTRE I MELBOURNE

If I was monarch for a day, I would give the Australian Aboriginal people their land back.

BRADLEY CNR LITTLE COLLINS & SWANSTON STS I MELBOURNE

RICKY M HILTON I ADELAIDE

I’d go on air and tell Australians to value one another and to show love by acting it, doing it and reaching out to people in need.

Little things count.

I would open up my home to the underprivileged to spend a few nights experiencing life in a castle and some luxury – healthy meals, a nice comfy bed with warm clean sheets and maid and butler service…the works!

SAVEY MITCHAM I ADELAIDE

I would help the homeless with housing and give to charities so the homeless are able to get clothing and food, and be able to pay bills and buy things like a washing machine or TV. When I was eight years old I met Prince Charles and Princess Diana when they came to Australia.

SIMON A SEMOPHORE IGA I ADELAIDE

I’d like to be as normal as possible. I’d decorate Buckingham Palace to make it look newer. I’d like the royals to be more accountable, more public. I would also like to delegate some of the duties to the younger royals, like George.

The royal family has a lot of hangers-on and I would cut loose some of them.

DAVID H&M BOURKE ST I MELBOURNE

I would enact peace treaties around the world. I would learn about every culture and how to say thank you in their language.

CINDY C BLACKWOOD I ADELAIDE

I would travel all over Australia and meet new people and sell the magazine.

ANDREW C CNR PITT & KING STS I SYDNEY

08 JUL 2022

I would get anything I wanted.

Tell people what to do. Have so many fancy clothes and handbags. Start a war or two to benefit my bank account. Or I could show that material wealth is not self-worth. Live without hate, help displace the concept of “us and them”. Actually, if I were queen for a day I would just grab 24 hours of muchneeded sleep!

HAIDAR NEWTOWN I SYDNEY

Once peace is established, I would end world hunger. Then tackle climate change to make it better for future generations.

I would also inspire love and altruism.

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“Try caviar”

I would call upon agriculture to be reformed. Planting needs to have a sense of love of the land and country.

Series by Henry Trumble

The Big Picture THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

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Forever Homes Henry Trumble visits the world’s oldest social housing complex, where rent has remained the same for 500 years.

by Alan Attwood

Alan Attwood is a former editor of The Big Issue.

FOR MORE IMAGES, VISIT HENRYTRUMBLE.COM.

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FRAU THOMMA ENJOYS HER APARTMENT IN THE WORLD’S OLDEST SOCIAL HOUSING COMPLEX.

08 JUL 2022

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arly in the 16th century – when Henry VIII was King of England and long before European explorers first made landfall on what is now known as Australia – an innovative housing project began in Augsburg, a city in southern Germany. Funded by Jakob Fugger, a member of a wealthy merchant family, the idea was to provide housing for local people in need.

Building continued over two decades. Almost 60 years later, in 1582, a church was added. Further work was done in the later 19th and early 20th centuries until there were close to 150 apartments in 67 buildings, plus an administrative centre. Damaged in World War II, repairs stayed faithful to original designs. Similarly, the purpose of what became known as the Fuggerei has remained true to the initial concept, meaning that it is now considered to be the world’s oldest public-housing complex.

Far from being a museum, it is a living, breathing place. But some things remain the same, not least the minimal rent: inhabitants still pay the equivalent of one Rhenish gulden, or €0.88, each year. Residents must be citizens of Augsburg, respectable, Catholic and in need.

They are also required to pray regularly and do some part‑time work within their community.

Australian photographer Henry Trumble first learned about the Fuggerei while researching a trip to Germany in late 2019. “I was looking for an interesting story to photograph while on my trip,” he recalls, “and it turned out there was a family connection to the Fugger Bank in Augsburg, which enabled me to reach out to the foundation. The 500-year-old fixed rent particularly caught my eye, and the opportunity to meet and speak to the residents made the trip worthwhile.”

Trumble found the Fuggerei to be “a truly beautiful place. Little quirks, such as individualised doorbells that helped residents find their apartments in the dark prior to electricity, are just magical, and the people [mostly elderly women, reflecting a worldwide trend in those most at risk of homelessness] all seemed truly grateful for the opportunity they had been given.”

Photographing the Fuggerei and its residents combined two of Trumble’s interests: still life and portraits. His pictures show modern fittings within ancient walls and the tranquil beauty of the place.

“Bringing people together with the space they live or work in is certainly one of my key interests. One of the first things that attracted me to being a photographer was the chance to see behind the scenes of people’s lives.”

Trumble believes the Fuggerei can be replicated in other cities. “There’s no reason this model can’t be continued elsewhere. It was, of course, funded privately and isn’t without its exclusions, but the broader concept of taking care of people in difficult situations should be an inspiration for anyone in a fortunate position.”

Memo aspiring philanthropists: reflect on Jakob Fugger and his lasting legacy in public housing.

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

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BREAKFAST IS SERVED FREE OF CHARGE.

THE COMPLEX COMPRISES 67 BUILDINGS, EACH WITH ITS OWN CHIMNEY.

ONE APARTMENT IS A MUSEUM, SHOWING HOW LIFE USED TO BE.

FRAU MÄRZ CAME TO FUGGEREI AFTER HER DIVORCE.

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IT’S GERMANY, SO OF COURSE THERE’S A BEER GARDEN!

A Light in the Dark On a cold winter’s night in Sydney, people gather to remember those who lost their lives living on the streets.

Daniel Nour is an Egyptian Australian writer and journalist whose writing has featured in the New York Times, SBS Voices, Meanjin Quarterly and Eureka Street. In 2020, he won the New South Wales Premier’s Young Journalist of the Year Award. @daniel_nour

illustration by Michel Streich

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S

t Mary’s casts an eerie gothic shadow over Cathedral Square, where around 80 people have gathered on the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, for the Sydney Homeless Memorial Service. It’s so dark that even our small battery-powered candles do little to illuminate the crowd of community members, volunteers and people who have known homelessness.

We are here on the lands of the Gadigal people to remember those who have died on the streets or in the shelters of our city over the past year. For many this will be their only commemoration.

“Today we remember those who have passed,” says advocate Talie Star, herself a survivor of homelessness, and one of many speakers who take to the podium. “They were resilient, strong and powerful, honouring who they were as best they could. They didn’t always live a perfect life, but they did everything they needed to survive. You did not fail; we failed you. It should not have been this way.”

She reads out a litany of names, which Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised refer to those who have died, without the dignity of a proper memorial. “Hugh Lucas, Roy Smoother, Robert Jordan, Allen White, Ella Brown, Paul Toomey...” she says, a kind of quiet song into the night.

Tonight is also a reminder of the deplorable homelessness crisis across the country, where more than 116,000 people are without a home every night.

Yet this bleak situation is punctuated by hope, like a candle on the night of the winter solstice.

Talie speaks of the trauma of being homeless and, with devastating clarity, about the challenges of sleeping rough. “The people who have the least are the most generous and the most kind-hearted,” she says. “Yet we fail to understand the reality

of the challenges people go through. Where will you sleep? Where will you go? Are you going to be hurt?”

She speaks of the homeless in our city as a kind of mirror, showing us our collective deficiency in finding solutions. “It’s heartbreaking that people in this day and age, in a first-world country, live like this. The homeless show us who we are [as a society] and who we need to be.”

As a member of a needs assessment panel for Homelessness NSW, Talie is acutely aware of the difficulty people experiencing homelessness face when trying to access vital support.

“We’re honouring the dead today, but we need to remember the living as well. It’s the living who are so important, as well as those who have died.

Being on the high-needs panel has shown me that so many people fall through the cracks. Some people don’t fit the box,” she says.

In 2020, some 424 people died while sleeping rough in Australia. This number, an estimate determined by the Australian Alliance to End Homelessness and the University of Western Australia last year, is the first national measure of its kind. There are no national systems in place to acknowledge the deaths of people who are homeless. Tonight is an attempt to mark and memorialise the plight of those who die without a home to call their own.

Organised by End Street Sleeping Collaboration, the memorial service highlights the need to shelter those on the streets, especially in the cold winter months when deaths spike, and in light of the sobering fact that rough sleepers have a reduced life expectancy of up to 30 years.

For Patricia Thomas, grief care managing consultant at Catholic Cemeteries and Crematoria,

the lonely death of any person on the streets is an unacceptable affront to human dignity.

“The death of every human being unmourned diminishes us,” she says. “I see flickers of lights in parks, under benches…in darkness. Our lights tonight will mark the lives of those, who in places unknown, died unmourned. Today they will be known and will be remembered.”

Yet there are so many who go unremembered, whose names remain unknown to us. They were old and young, of all gender and sexual orientations; they were mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters.

Their passing went largely unnoticed.

The lighting and swaying of our candles in the cool night air is accompanied by a rousing performance of ‘You Raise Me Up’, by the Honeybees Choir. They are a collection of volunteers, themselves survivors of homelessness.

With their booming, somewhat discordant voices, they may not be the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, but they offer something far greater: the joy of community amid hardship. Among the choir is Wazza, known to all who live on or serve in these streets. With his huge white beard and piercing blue eyes, he is a sure source of comfort for all who meet him.

“Singing is good for the soul and is a way of healing people,” he tells me, recalling the impact his singing had on a man in palliative care. “I took his attention away from his illness for half an hour, and for me, that’s what it’s all about.”

Mary Stephanie, a woman who once slept rough, takes to the stage to read from the Bible, Matthew 25: “For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat.

I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink,” her voice reverberating through the night.

We hear a final blessing from Uniting Church minister Rev Danielle Hemsworth-Smith. I speak to her about why memorials like this matter, and whether they make any practical difference in people’s circumstances.

“The significance of this memorial is that people are remembered and not forgotten. Everyone here had a name, friends, a family,” she says, affirming one of the recurring themes of the night, that homelessness is an issue that has little to do with the fault of its survivors and much to do with a broken system.

“The fault of this crisis lies both with the state and everyday people. It’s important that we make support more accessible, with less red tape and less stigma,” she says.

As tonight is the winter solstice, I ask her what this might mean for the gathering and she responds with a profound notion: “The longest night of the year for me has spiritual significance, reminding us that God is in the darkness, that He is not lost.”

FOR MORE INFORMATION, TO HELP OR DONATE, VISIT ENDSTREETSLEEPING.ORG.

by Ricky French @frenchricky

PHOTO BY JAMES BRAUND

G

rowing up in New Zealand is a hard gig if you want to pass yourself off as an Australian. I’ve lived in this country pretty much my whole adult life, but it wasn’t until yesterday, when I arrived home from my first ever trip to Bali, that I truly felt like an Aussie.

At times Bali felt like an extreme sport: the surfing, the moped driving, the drinking; I’m not quite sure how anyone survives. I made it through all three activities with bruises and humiliation the only lasting impacts. It wasn’t until the last night that I felt truly terrified though, when I visited the Uluwatu Temple and came to face to face with my arch nemesis from the animal kingdom.

It was dark as we left the temple and I spotted it in the bushes, sitting innocently under a tree. Naive members of the group cooed and remarked how cute it was. “Look, a baby one!” someone said, pointing to another tree.

This was bad. We were clearly surrounded. We’d survived the daily kecak dance performance, but would we make it out of the temple grounds without being mugged by marauding mobs of macaque monkeys? While the others cooed over the baby, I hurried back to the bus. I’ve been burnt before.

Macaques have dedicated their existence to terrorising tourists, all in the name of pillaging food. They will jump up and snatch food from your hand; they know only too well what lurks inside plastic bags. They can open zips and probably pick padlocks. They’ve even worked out how to steal items like sunglasses and thongs and hold them for ransom before trading them back to you for food.

I first met these fearless thieves during a trip to Borneo a few years ago. I was staying with my family in a simple cabin in Bako National Park in Sarawak. We first learnt what macaques were capable of during lunch at the cafeteria. You’d be happily eating at an outdoor table when – without warning – all hell would break loose as

macaques made their ambush, sprinting across the floor and leaping onto your table in a smashand-grab raid. Trays would go flying and staff would rush outside with brooms to chase them away and clean up the mess.

Getting to the national park meant a boat trip from Kampung Bako. You could tell which tourists were fresh off the boat because they’d be the ones walking along eating ice blocks. Big mistake. “There’s another one,” I’d whisper, and we’d watch in shameful voyeurism as a macaque stalked its victim, leapt and grabbed the ice block out of their hands, disappearing up a tree, or sometimes just eating it brazenly on the ground right in front of the startled person.

I mistakenly assumed we’d be safe in our cabin. Macaques, however, don’t seem to understand the etiquette of private rental accommodation. They’d climb in the windows, or follow us in through the door. You couldn’t sit on the deck without a family of them perched on the railing, baring their teeth and giving you a look that goes far beyond distain. That was what annoyed me the most, I think. For all we give them (that they take), macaques absolutely hate us: you can see it in their beady eyes.

On our last day in Borneo we went for a long walk to a golden sand beach. It was heaven.

We swam in the ocean as warm as bathwater and stewed in the humid tropical air. When we returned to our cabin about a dozen macaques were on the roof, trying to get in. On the ground was a baby, separated from its mum on the roof. It kept trying to climb up a drainpipe but couldn’t. It was crying for its mum; and when it finally made it up and into her arms we were so happy, because it was the cutest thing ever. And this is why those little bastards will always win.

Ricky is a writer and musician unafraid to brave the wilds.

Fellow columnist Fiona Scott-Norman is taking a short break.

08 JUL 2022

Macaque Attack

Macaques have dedicated their existence to terrorising tourists, all in the name of pillaging food.

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Ricky

Mystery Road: Origin

Small Screens

The Road Taken

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Detective Jay Swan returns to our screens, but this time he’s younger and played by actor Mark Coles Smith.

by Anthony Frajman

Anthony Frajman is a culture writer originally from Melbourne.

MYSTERY ROAD: ORIGIN IS SCREENING ON ABC TV.

MARK COLES SMITH AS JAY SWAN AND HAYLEY MCELHINNEY AS MAX

08 JUL 2022

River, fresh from directing acclaimed SBS online series Robbie Hood (2019), avoided revisiting the earlier Mystery Road entries. “We didn’t really talk about watching the two previous series. The freedom came from really knowing that the Jay that we end up with hasn’t fully happened yet… We set up and establish the younger Jay and prepare him for that transformation.”

It was this freedom that allowed both Coles Smith and River to put their stamp on the character. The Jay we see in the prequel is more vulnerable than the jaded version we have known – Coles Smith points out that he is still “a little bit naive” when it comes to “dealing with the expectations of two worlds – the cultural responsibilities as an Indigenous man…and the justice system”.

Another major challenge was that when filming took place in 2021, Western Australia, the location which served as the stunning backdrop for all the previous iterations, had shuttered its borders.

These hurdles created a harsh time-crunch, which made shooting an “endurance test”, according to Coles Smith. “The clock was always ticking. I certainly didn’t know what it was like to do six-day weeks for 13 weeks.”

The trials were ultimately worth it – one of the most pleasing parts for Coles Smith and River was seeing the early reaction from the crew, who were mostly legacy crew members from the original series.

“Two-thirds of the crew on set worked on the previous seasons; they all knew Aaron really well,” Coles Smith muses. “And it was interesting, within the very first few days, the whispers going around the whole set were, ‘Oh my gosh, when they call action, Mark steps on and it’s Jay, he’s just like Aaron.’ And I felt this huge relief.”

Looking back, Coles Smith says the experience of playing Jay Swan has changed him forever.

“Going through Mystery Road: Origin has completely recalibrated what I understand I’m capable of.”

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PHOTO BY DAVID DARE PARKER

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e wanted to do a couple of things that we hadn’t seen before. We wanted to see Jay smile,” says actor Mark Coles Smith, who takes on the role of Detective Jay Swan in ABC series Mystery Road: Origin. The brand new six-parter is a prequel to the series made famous by Aaron Pedersen as the enigmatic police officer, across a number of TV series and movies. Set in 1999, it follows a younger Swan, as a freshly minted detective who moves to his home town of Jardine and must navigate his estranged father, a mysterious masked gang and skeletons in his closet.

“The challenge was deciding the later traits I wanted to channel and how much of something different I wanted to bring to Jay,” adds the proud Nyikina man. “There was a balancing act of knowing where he was going to end up and allowing him to be someone different before all of that happened.”

Initially, both Coles Smith and director Dylan River were wary of making new a series about a figure so beloved. Pedersen had cemented the conflicted detective as an icon in Australian neo-noir.

“Jay Swan is not a character I ever thought I was going to get to play,” Coles Smith says.

But when he spoke to River for the first time, via Zoom, both were immediately drawn to the rich possibilities of Swan’s early years. And just 24 hours later, they decided to take on the challenge: to take a character revered by viewers and reinvent him as a young officer coming of age, on the verge of becoming the man audiences know so well.

While initially reluctant to fill the “big shoes” of an actor whose work he admired so much, Coles Smith says River’s enthusiasm and care convinced him to take on the part.

“What struck me about Dylan was his commitment to the series, and that he really, really cared about the character,” he explains. “The first conversation that I had with Dylan, he mapped out exactly what Mystery Road: Origin was and who Jay was.”

Coles Smith, a two-time AACTA nominee, for his turns in Last Cab to Darwin (2015) and Pawno (2015), was excited by the chance to truly make the character his own.

Bea Laus, aka beabadoobee, has a massive audience, but it’s herself that she writes for.

by Doug Wallen @wallendoug

Doug Wallen is a freelance writer and editor based in Victoria, and a former music editor of The Big Issue.

PHOTO BY ERIKA KAMANO

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Music

Beabadoobee

Learning to Bea

B

ea Laus still remembers the first song she wrote. It helps that it was only five years ago – and that millions of other people know it too.

Penned soon after she took up guitar at age 17, the lilting acoustic ballad ‘Coffee’ became a modest internet sensation when she uploaded it in 2017 under the moniker beabadoobee. It was sampled by Canadian rapper Powfu on ‘Death Bed (Coffee for Your Head)’, which became a TikTok smash in 2020 and has since achieved triple platinum sales in Australia, among other countries.

Now aged 22, the Philippines-born, English-raised singer, songwriter and guitarist is releasing her second album Beatopia. She’s had a prolific run since that first break, releasing four EPs before 2020’s debut LP Fake It Flowers. Yet Beatopia still nails the confiding immediacy that has become Laus’ striking signature. It showcases her artistic growth and varied taste at every step, without ever losing the directness that made ‘Coffee’ cut through so much online static.

“It’s a very simple song,” says Laus, talking via Zoom while in transit. “And simple songs just attract people.

It’s very easy to listen to. It was a sweet little song I wrote during a really sweet time.”

taking inspiration from The Sundays, The Chemical Brothers and Stereolab. Laus has previously paid tribute to the frontman of 90s indie rockers Pavement with 2019’s ‘I Wish I Was Stephen Malkmus’, and this album’s ‘Broken CD’ uses an emblem of that same decade as a metaphor for continually skipping back to one event.

So what keeps drawing her back to that era? “It’s not that particular era,” replies Laus. “I get drawn to the 90s maybe because of the unapologetic-ness of it, but it’s not specific to that time. I’m not doing this whole revival thing. People take inspiration from anything, and at times it [works] its way into your music. At times you realise that, and at times you don’t. But I think nothing’s really original these days.”

While Beatopia echoes modern music streaming in how gamely it cuts across touchstones, it definitely feels original. Whatever the stylistic mode she happens to be in, Laus is always singing directly from her own life. That’s especially evident on ‘Fairy Song’, in which she reminds herself to sleep more, drink water, brush her hair and not smoke too much. She calls it her own version of the Ten Commandments, and it’s one of the

most relatable turns on an album that captures the constant push and pull of our internal monologues.

Even as someone who admits that she’s always writing and releasing things, Laus is no stranger to writer’s block. But rather than let such stoppages halt her free flow of inspired material, she looks to inspiration in other artforms when she’s stuck, whether they’re movies or paintings. She has also learned how to locate new narrative directions when faced with a creative dead end.

“As a writer, you can exaggerate your feelings and make it into a whole different story,” she explains. “You can make it into something new so you can write about something refreshing.”

Having already conquered massive festivals like Glastonbury and Coachella, Laus is coming to Australia for the first time in September. But even as her audiences swell to more and more daunting proportions, she knows how to stay in touch with the unobstructed truth-telling that made ‘Coffee’ such a breath of fresh air.

“I have to write music to make myself feel okay,” says Laus, “so I’m not going to change the way I write because more people will listen to it. It doesn’t matter – as long as I can write for myself, that’s what matters.”

BEATOPIA IS OUT NOW.

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Laus has likened her early songs to diary entries.

What’s different about Beatopia is that instead of processing her personal experiences in retrospect, this time she was documenting them as they happened.

“Beatopia was accepting those experiences and writing about what’s happening right now,” she says.

“What I’m feeling now. It was very in the moment.”

Despite that focus on the here and now, the album title actually goes back to an inviting, multicultural fantasy world she imagined at age seven. Laus returned to the concept a decade-and-a-half later, reclaiming it as a metaphor for accepting feelings that she wasn’t ready to face as a child. That sense of hard-won resolution comes through on the record, not just in the lyrics but also in Laus’ openness to roaming between eras and styles from song to song.

“Sonically, you can hear the freedom I had with different types of sounds,” she says, pointing to the bossa nova detour of ‘The Perfect Pair’ and the emo‑influenced ‘Pictures of Us’, co-written with The 1975’s Matty Healy. Other songs continue her longstanding mingling of indie rock hooks with programmed beats, including the churning single ‘Talk’, which taps into the anthemic best of 90s alt-rock.

Laus recalls her mother playing 90s acts like The Cardigans and The Cranberries around the house during childhood, and for Beatopia she dived deeper into the decade that immediately preceded her birth in 2000,

08 JUL 2022

I have to write music to make myself feel okay, so I’m not going to change the way I write because more people will listen to it.

Celeste Mountjoy

Books As Filthyratbag, illustrator and writer Celeste Mountjoy revels in dark comic takes on anxiety, addiction and love.

by Sarah Smith @sarah_smithie

Sarah Smith is a writer, editor and broadcaster – and a former music editor of The Big Issue.

PHOTO BY NICK MCKINLAY

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This Is Life

book jumps immediately into Mountjoy’s thoughts on womanhood. It’s both jarring and purposeful. Blooming sexuality and the fetishisation of youth are themes that have remained present in her art from day one.

“I was definitely very obsessed with the idea of femininity and womanhood from very early on, and the feeling of going from a baby to a fully formed woman is kind of how I felt a lot of the time,” she explains.

“I didn’t even feel like I was being perceived by the world when I was a kid – I just felt like this strange little vessel. And then suddenly you get all of this sexuality and men start looking at you when you’re walking down the street and you feel like you’re finally being seen – and whether that’s in a positive or a negative way, it’s still something. And that’s kind of an exciting concept as a kid, I think.”

The complexity of burgeoning sexuality and the ways in which older men predate on teenage vulnerabilities, along with a desire to be “seen” by society, has often materialised in Mountjoy’s work through images of wolves and young girls. Drawn from lived experience,

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS IS OUT 12 JULY.

08 JUL 2022

I look back at what I was drawing at 14 and 15 and if I’d seen it as an adult I might have been slightly worried if I was okay…

they are darkly comic and cut close to the bone.

“I felt torn between being a young girl and going to high school and also having all these people around me validating me about how I could make art that was mature, and that I looked mature and I was different,” she says of this time in her life. “[At 15] I had a fake ID so I could go out clubbing and drinking with older people and I thought that I could keep up. So I was having this huge identity crisis, I guess, because I never really felt like I knew how to fit in properly as a teenager, or like I knew how to act…”

In an ironic turn, as Mountjoy’s work became more recognised, the more the media obsessed over her youthfulness. Nearly all of the early profiles written about her are framed with a distinctive kid-wonder bent. It’s not a point she has missed.

“I think its kind of ironic isn’t it?” she laughs. “A lot of my art is about the fetishisation of youth, yet that’s kind of how I managed to get a name as an artist – through the fetishisation of my own youth. The idea of the mature teenager – for some reason it’s fascinating to people. And it’s funny, I look back at what I was drawing at 14 and 15 and if I’d seen it as an adult I might have been slightly worried if I was okay…”

Now, aged 21, she has had time and space to reflect.

Putting together the book enabled Mountjoy to look back with a new kind of perspective. Although, while she had thought the process might be a cathartic one, it’s with another one of her sardonic laughs that she reveals that wasn’t the case.

“I actually completely spiralled after I wrote it and had to go to rehab. So it wasn’t necessarily the most therapeutic thing in the end,” she says. “I think that sometimes looking inward and being introspective can turn into this strange obsessive self-indulgence where you’re constantly like a washing machine, just turning everything around in your head.”

Mountjoy’s work deals very explicitly with her relationship with alcohol, simultaneously raking over the prickly reality of living with anxiety – so her honesty on the topic isn’t surprising. It sounds like a heavy mix, but the beauty of Mountjoy’s art and What the Fuck Is This is that it has a canny way of seeing light in the world, often revealing the funny where most would be hard-pressed to find it. Time, as Mountjoy reminds us at the book’s conclusion, really does turn everything to diamonds.

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eleste Mountjoy’s art gets under the skin.

Funny, searing, heartfelt and brutal, it picks at the human condition in a way that is both deeply personal and reassuringly universal.

“It’s all very personal, but also I’ve never really truly connected it to parts of my life and my story,” Mountjoy says from her home in Melbourne.

Her new book What the Fuck Is This aims to do just that. A weighty and beautifully structured collation of art, it stitches together her drawings with fleeting vignettes to form a loose narrative that is part abstract autobiography, part satirical social commentary.

Mountjoy has been sharing her drawings on social media under the pseudonym Filthyratbag since she was 14 years old. In that time she has amassed thousands of fans, featured in The New York Times and established a vital and distinctive voice. Over six chapters, What the Fuck Is This delicately weaves its way through this evolution, elevating subjects that have been constants in her work: anxiety, addiction, love, womanhood and grief.

The first drawing we see in What the Fuck Is This is of a stork dropping a hot-pink, pudgy babe to Earth accompanied by the infant’s thoughts (Oh no!). Beside it, like a kind of inverse Hallmark greeting scribed in all-caps is written: “Have a Shit One!” From there, the

Film Reviews

Aimee Knight Film Editor @siraimeeknight

O

ne of the films I’m super keen to see at this year’s Scandinavian Film Festival (in cinemas 12 July-10 August) is Sanna Lenken’s Comedy Queen. The dramedy follows 13-year-old Sasha (Sigrid Johnson) on her quest to become a comedian, since her father hasn’t laughed since his wife, Sasha’s mother, passed away. Based on the book by Swedish author and psychologist Jenny Jägerfeld, it screened earlier this year in the Berlin International Film Festival’s Generation Kplus program, curated especially for kid cineastes. Building on Lenken’s 2015 feature debut My Skinny Sister, this sensitive story of grief, recovery and medicinal laughter looks substantial enough to satisfy older audiences, too.

If Comedy Queen tickles your funny bone, see also Nothing to Laugh About, a Norwegian comedy-drama about stand-up comic Kasper Berntsen (writer and star Odd-Magnus Williamson). After a dire medical diagnosis, Kasper is inspired to dig deeper for material in this life-affirming story.

Finnish comedy 70 Is Just a Number also deals with themes of creativity and mortality using charm, wit and a warmth that belies its Scandi setting.

Other Nordic morsels nestled in the program include Icelandic mystery thriller Quake, Finnish black comedy The Woodcutter Story (direct from Critics’ Week at Cannes) and the festival’s opening night epic Margrete: Queen of the North – a lavish scam story set in 1402. AK

XXX HANNELE LAURI IN 70 IS JUST A NUMBER

KURT VONNEGUT: UNSTUCK IN TIME 

Never meet your heroes, or you might spend 40 years making a documentary about them. At least that’s what happened to director Robert B Weide (of Curb Your Enthusiasm fame), who sent a fan letter to Kurt Vonnegut in 1982, met and befriended the great American author, and finally emerged with Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time some four decades later. A chronicle of their friendship as well as a crash course on the author’s life and work, the film is both helped and hindered by Weide’s closeness to his subject. Home videos and interviews with Vonnegut and his family make for compelling viewing, revealing the Slaughterhouse-Five writer’s fallibly human side.

But other inclusions that show off their relationship, like a voicemail from Vonnegut congratulating Weide on his Emmy win for Curb Your Enthusiasm, feel unnecessarily vain. Luckily, Vonnegut’s wit, charisma and ingenuity have enough combined wattage to brighten even the doco’s dullest points, amounting to a worthwhile tribute to a 20th-century iconoclast. JESSICA ELLICOTT THOR: LOVE AND THUNDER

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

With Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Taika Waititi reimagined the self-serious franchise into a space-opera comedy packed with throwback bangers, creative gags and a hero that loses almost everything – including his hammer, Mjolnir. These stakes were reversed by the ensuing Avengers films, putting Thor (Chris Hemsworth) in a narratively tricky position. Here, Waititi doubles down on wacky flair: giant screaming goats, a Sin City-esque asteroid leeched of colour, and a gorgeous set piece where Thor rallies a brood of ferocious children. But the sequel is hampered by its lead’s aimlessness. Thor is no longer a king, now cut off from the Shakespearean family drama that sustained much of his story. Poignance is gestured at with the return of his ex, Jane (Natalie Portman), who now, suffering from cancer, can wield the powers of Mjolnir. Portman, along with Christian Bale as an undercooked villain, feel wasted. A title like “Love and Thunder” promises hard-hitting emotions, chockful of wonder and charm, but that promise is sorely unfulfilled. CLAIRE CAO

HAUTE COUTURE 

When Esther (Nathalie Baye), head seamstress at Dior’s Parisian workshop, has her bag stolen by Jade (Lyna Khoudri), a young girl from the banlieue (suburbs), she decides not to press charges but to teach her the art of dressmaking. Following a familiar blueprint of culture-clash buddy dramedies, like Éric Toledano and Olivier Nakache’s The Intouchables (2011), Haute Couture unfortunately offers little in the way of charm or joie de vivre. Fresh from her scene-stealing role in The French Dispatch (2021), Khoudri dazzles as Jade, whose flinty exterior hides a genuine desire for purpose. Director Sylvie Ohayon captures a few beautiful shots of Jade practising her stitching in bed with her sick mother (Clotilde Courau), but the pair’s relationship is left underdeveloped in favour of repeated scenes of banal bickering at the atelier. Though it shines a light on the incredible talent of professional seamstresses, Haute Couture falters in its attempt to tug at the heartstrings, hemmed in by a stilted script and an unfulfilling conclusion. LOUISE CAIN

Small Screen Reviews

Claire Cao Small Screens Editor @clairexinwen

BORN PUNK  | WINDOWS PC

THE ART OF INCARCERATION

 | NETFLIX

 | NETFLIX

Netflix darling Lana Condor (To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before) stars as Erica Vu, a painfully shy high school senior, whose only companion is her zany but equally unpopular best friend Gia (Zoe Colletti). Together, the girls dive into a newfound boldness at one serendipitous party, only to wake up the next day and discover…Erica’s dead. Technically?

As her corpse slowly rots away in the woods, Erica – now a ghost – remains trapped on Earth in pseudo-purgatory, somehow able to interact with others as if she were still alive.

Aided by the ever-loyal Gia, she embarks on a mission to uncover the mysteries surrounding her death while still trying to leave behind an unforgettable legacy. Zippy and fast paced, the show crumbles under a ham-fisted plot.

The central mystery sustains our interest over eight episodes, but is unevenly resolved.

Tropey characters end up feeling shallow as the humour consistently falls flat, resulting in the most emotional moments feeling unearned. For a show boasting interesting supernatural elements, it is surprisingly ordinary. LAMYA NAWAR

This revealing documentary follows participants in The Torch, an art program for incarcerated and recently released Australian First Nations people. Intimate interviews with Troy (Wemba-Wemba), Christopher Austin (Gunditjmara Keeray-Woorroong), and Robby Wirramanda (Wergaia) provide necessary insight into the harsh realities of imprisonment and how the prison system fails people, but the scope is limited. The facts presented are hard-hitting, but it’s unclear what solutions the filmmakers are striving towards. Audiences may find themselves seeking greater clarity over what the men want out of life beyond art; it’s a disservice that the subjects are presented not as people but two-dimensional prisoners.

Christopher speaks of the terror of being incarcerated at 12, but not about what he was like as a child. Youth incarceration and deaths in custody are skimmed over, and endorsements of The Torch prioritised.

Although informative, The Art of Incarceration feels like a missed opportunity to paint a fuller picture. ALEXANDER TE POHE

A

bsurdist comedy Nude Tuesday takes a while to deliver on its bold title, but does so gloriously: eventually, audiences are greeted with bums, knees, boobs and full-frontal galore. Before these fleshy festivities, Kiwi director Armagan Ballantyne and writer Jackie van Beek delight in a series of escalating hijinks in this surprisingly tender tale of a rocky marriage. Bruno (Damon Herriman) and Laura (van Beek) are a joyless middle-class couple that decide to participate in a “carnal retreat”. Wonderla (stylised ẄØnÐĘULÄ) promises a week of couples counselling, frenetic dance parties, animal guides and tantric lovemaking. The retreat is led by sex guru/cult figure Bjorg (Jemaine Clement, Flight of the Conchords), who Laura is immediately drawn to over her genial husband.

And have I mentioned that every character speaks in complete gibberish? The vaguely Scandi-sounding language even encompasses the film’s soundtrack, which features gibberish covers of classics like ‘Sea of Love’. The gag allows for a wealth of comedic mileage, with the subtitles for the theatrical release and Stan exclusive utilising different writers. Julia Davis pens the version hitting theatres, while Aussie comedians Celia Pacquola and Ronnie Chieng put their stamp on the streaming edition – resulting in hilariously individual lines (at one point, Bjorg refers to himself as an “erect cloud”). But it’s a credit to Ballantyne and actors that the maximalist physical comedy and emotional highs have impact, no matter what the characters are saying. Enter Wonderla by streaming Nude Tuesday on Stan now. CC

08 JUL 2022

BOO, BITCH

GOODBYE NUDIE TUESDAY

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In the year 2155, the Danish island of Bornholm is a grimy, neon-lit metropolis, home to thousands of climate refugees.

This dystopic future is an intriguing one, but Born Punk’s slow, initially unrewarding pacing is likely to disengage all but those most dedicated to the cyberpunk genre.

The point-and-click gameplay is tried and true: investigate your surroundings, collect items and solve puzzles. The pixel art is compelling, Bornholm’s dingy alleys and sewers so vividly rendered you can almost smell them. The game sometimes allows multiple solutions for a puzzle – but an underwhelming conclusion awaits those who fail to perfectly negotiate Born Punk’s trials. Taking inspiration from early 90s adventure games like Monkey Island, for better or worse, the script also feels like a throwback. There are cyber-pirate cats, hologram-ninja guards and a hip-hop-obsessed android who calls himself Grandmaster Flash Drive. Voice acting gives every character depth, but little else suggests contemporary influence. It’s unlikely to win over younger players, but adventure game aficionados may be charmed by the goofy grunge. AGNES FORRESTER

Music Reviews

A

Isabella Trimboli Music Editor

s long as there has been the shiny, fluorescence of America and its aspirational culture, there have been musicians who have explored its gloomy and sinister undertow. Think about the work of Bruce Springsteen, in particular Nebraska, a creepy acoustic album about teenage outcast murderers. More recently, Lana Del Rey has used American iconography to expose the degradation and plasticity of a nation.

Two recent albums have me thinking about the idea of the American gothic, and how it has mutated and evolved over time.

Ethel Cain recently released her debut album, Preacher’s Daughter, a cloudy pop record about her ultra-religious upbringing in a Southern Baptist community. It is unsurprising that many have pitched her as a gothic Lana Del Rey. Some songs definitely have mass appeal – straight-forward ballads like ‘American Teenager’ and ‘House in Nebraska’. But others are stranger and more exciting, like the industrial squeal of ‘Ptolemaea’ or the eerie experimental drone of ‘August Underground’.

The second record is Perfume Genius’ Ugly Season. The American artist (aka Mike Hadreas) has had an interesting career, and is yet to put out a bad record. His earlier releases were built around plodding piano and wonderful warbling yet angelic vocals about trauma and desperation. He then explored queer glam, 80s pop and even a bit of theatrical decadence. Ugly Season is his most experimental yet, where piano, organs and chimes combine to create a collection of gorgeously gloomy songs. IT

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ETHEL CAIN: BLEACHERS DAUGHTER

@itrimboli

THE STORM BEFORE THE CALM CHRIS CHENEY 

Melbourne trio The Living End have built a career on a their frenetic live shows, collecting five ARIAs along the way, but frontman Chris Cheney’s solo debut treads a different path. Recorded across seven years, The Storm Before the Calm is a chronicle of the tumult that has visited his life, re-excavating emotional upheaval concerning substance abuse problems, a near marriage dissolution and the guilt Cheney felt around his father’s death. Expanding beyond The Living End’s three-minute belters, restrained stomper ‘California’ is an ode to the unrequited love for the place he left in 2020. The songs display an unashamed love of American songwriter Jimmy Webb (who wrote songs for Glenn Campbell and Linda Ronstadt, among others). This is heard on the acoustic strum of ‘Football Team’, where the singer recalls the bubblegum-scented trading cards of his youth. More Paul Kelly than The Clash, Cheney has delivered a beautifully melodic and melancholic record. It’s an album where 60s soul and Southern boogie influences create a new sonic freshness for Cheney, while the guitarist decrees how darkness and regret can transform us. ROBYN DOREIAN

TRESOR GWENNO

HONESTLY, NEVERMIND DRAKE

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After Gwenno Saunders sang her 2018 album Le Kov entirely in Cornish, the revived Britannic language enjoyed a measurable spike in interest. Saunders returns to that tongue for this third solo outing, proving once again that music can easily transcend language barriers. Tresor (“Treasure”) is a fascinating session of circular, open-air art-pop. Despite Saunders looking very much inward with her lyrical themes, which sprang from rediscovering her individuality after becoming a mother, these songs feel unbothered by gravity or worldly limitations.

The centrepiece ‘Ardamm’ maintains its hypnotic pulse for more than seven minutes, while ‘Keltek’ feels ominously cinematic, and the minimalistic repetitions of ‘Tonnow’ seem to float and linger in mid-air. ‘N.Y.C.A.W.’, sung in Welsh, exudes a sense of low-key agitation that echoes its translation to “Wales is not for sale”. Crafted with co-producer Rhys Edwards, Tresor is deeply immersive. It’s also a testament to her distinctive voice, whatever language she’s employing. DOUG WALLEN

The surprise album release has long lost any marketing novelty, but apparently not for Drake. Fortunately, his Honestly, Nevermind is refreshing sonically. The Canadian rap superstar fully embraces house, collaborating with DJ/producers like the Grammy-winning South African Black Coffee and Guatemalan American EDM-type Carnage. It’s an afterhours mixtape – solitary and melancholy rather than communal and content. Songs such as the Afro-house ‘Texts Go Green’ recall Drake’s 2017 playlist More Life. ‘Massive’, a Weeknd-like piano house banger, eclipses the subliminal single ‘Falling Back’. Tweeters have joked that Honestly, Nevermind is Drake cutting dance for high-street retailers, but he successfully personalises a subgenre like Jersey club with ‘Sticky’ (co-produced by Australian indie-soulster RY X). But Drake hasn’t grown that much. Lyrically, he’s still fixated on futile romantic relationships, rueing commitment issues and expressing endless recriminations. Drake may be grooving, but he isn’t moving on. CYCLONE WEHNER

Book Reviews

Melissa Fulton Deputy Editor @melissajfulton

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HOLY WOMAN: A DIVINE ADVENTURE LOUISE OMER

EITHER/OR ELIF BATUMAN

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A luminous memoir of dazzling honesty and brutal interrogation of self and belief, Louise Omer’s debut book examines whether feminism is incompatible with monotheistic patriarchal religion. Following the break-up of her marriage, the former Pentecostal preacher embarks on a worldwide quest for answers as she deconstructs her identity and contends with the broken promises of her faith. Omer conducts interviews with academics and religious practitioners as she seeks out philosophies in Christianity, Islam and Judaism. These are not superficial touchpoints or romantic guidebook depictions. Omer is unflinching in examining her privilege, and acknowledges her cisgendered experience and the violence of colonialism in all the places she travels. Never holding back, Omer’s self-examination contends with themes of body and sexuality – a process that climaxes with shocking intensity. Ultimately, this beautiful book entreaties continued question-asking, and consideration of the consequences of worshipping a male god. DASHA MAIOROVA

Either/Or is Elif Batuman’s bitingly funny follow-up to The Idiot. It continues the story of Selin, the sharp Turkish American who is now in her second year at Harvard. A campus novel, the plot is driven as much by Selin’s study of Russian literature as by her outer life, where absurdist deconstructions of Eugene Onegin sit alongside raw accounts of her first sexual experiences. The literary criticism is thrilling, but it also feels a little too much like Batuman’s intellectual project.

Either/Or is most charming when it’s a classic bildungsroman, like when Selin learns that alcohol is important because parties are insufferable. And it’s best as a künstlerroman – where these competing projects come together – in which Selin matures not just into an adult but an artist. At this juncture, Batuman asks the question (borrowed from Kierkegaard): should we live aesthetically or ethically? Selin, an aspiring writer, gives a delightfully heretical response: we should live novelistically.

OUR WIVES UNDER THE SEA JULIA ARMFIELD 

The pain of separation takes a profound physical toll in Julia Armfield’s enthralling debut novel. When Leah embarks on a research mission in a deep-sea vessel, the craft becomes stranded for several months, leaving three scientists in an anxious state of limbo. That slow-burn distress is echoed in Leah’s wife Miri, who awaits her return with precious little news from Leah’s mysterious employers. When Miri does finally come home, it’s not a happy ending but the onset of dissolution for the couple – both metaphorically and literally. Slipping freely between the spouses’ romantic backstory, extended time apart and surreal reunion, Our Wives Under the Sea graduates from gorgeously intimate character work to something closer to body horror. Yet that’s handled with just as much tender attention as Leah and Miri’s more relatable struggles. Equally impressive is what Armfield chooses to leave unsaid. The book’s premise may sound like the province of science fiction, but it’s a potent allegory for the gradual loss of loved ones. DOUG WALLEN

SAM FLYNN

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MICHELLE DE KRETSER

08 JUL 2022

his year’s Miles Franklin has been a spicy one, hasn’t it? It’s weird and sad that the arts don’t often make the news unless there’s a scandal attached, in this case the almost 60 plagiarism allegations levelled at briefly longlisted author John Hughes for The Dogs. But in positive news, the shortlist announcement has been buoying indeed, featuring a royal flush of Big Issue faves in Jennifer Down (see Ed#646 for our interview with her), Michelle de Kretser (Ed#647), Michael Mohammed Ahmed (Eds#593 and #646) and Alice Pung (Eds#639 and #654) – plus the exciting addition of underdog author Michael Winkler for Grimmish, his experimental biography of boxer Joe Grim. Winkler put the book out himself when it was rejected by Australian publishers, and it has since become a sleeper hit. It’s the first time in the prize’s 65-year history that a self-published book has made the shortlist.

Friends, this edition will be my final one as deputy editor and books person, and wholehearted thanks are in order: to the vendors, first and foremost, who always keep me honest; to my fellow writers and editors for their spark and enthusiasm; and of course to you fine folk, who buy and read our humble rag and keep our community thriving. It’s been a real treat to share my hot picks with ya.

See you at the bookshop! MF

Public Service Announcement

by Lorin Clarke @lorinimus

So let’s rewrite the rule book on deserving things. Let’s remove the mathematics and let the poetry of the universe be our guide. With the above caveats, let’s decide deserving things comes with no strings attached.

You deserve time to stare into the middle distance.

You deserve the very best spring day to catch you one morning when you least expect it, full of hope and colour and daffodils.

You deserve a nice cup of tea and piece of cake. Not because it’s your birthday. Just because.

It is an achievement to relax. We don’t count it as an achievement when we’re doing the moral maths, because daydreaming? That’s the stuff of poetry.

Allowing the amorphous geography of the mind to expand and contract and soar and swivel, entirely without purpose or intent. What a thing to be able to do.

Watching something on TV that has nothing to do with your life and causes you to live in a warm bubble of whatever delights you? That’s self-care, baby!

You deserve to go dancing. Or stay at home dancing.

You know what? Dance where you like. It’s an open offer.

You deserve to break your routine. Doesn’t have to be a massive break. Maybe you just use a different pen

or sing a different song in the shower. You can also go to the nearest beach and stand there, smelling the ocean and being buffeted about the head by the wind. No reason is required at beaches. Certainly, beaches do not mind if you don’t deserve them.

You deserve your favourite things sometimes. If you can’t have them – and sometimes we can’t – maybe you will again one day. Maybe there will be something else.

Something meaningful and rock solid and worth the wait. You don’t have to deserve it. You might have to wait for it or for the something else that takes its place, though, which can be made easier by rewarding yourself in tiny ways. Keeping track. Ticking boxes. Measuring the time in books. Because sometimes in life, time just has to pass in order for you to feel like things are okay.

You might as well fill the time with some lovely things.

Flowers. A nice walk. A good friend. Lovely things don’t always help but withholding them from yourself is just moral mathematics. You’re going on a journey, whether you like it or not. You might as well have a nice view.

Some people don’t deserve good things, but moral maths isn’t really the best way of thinking about how we treat each other or ourselves. Cruel people and thoughtless people and greedy people get what they want a lot of the time. I’m not convinced they enjoy the view though.

Maybe it’s time to do away with the word “deserve”.

Maybe it’s an unhelpful construction for measuring the swings and arrows of outrageous fortune (I know, I know, it’s a soliloquy, not a poem, but you must admit, it’s pretty poetic). Maybe you should always feel entitled to do things that make you happy, so long as they’re not hurting anybody else.

You deserve your favourite hot drink from your favourite mug. You deserve to rewatch the brainless TV show even though there are more intellectually stimulating things to be watched. Let someone else watch them, for heaven’s sake. Public Service Announcement: you deserve nice things. Enjoy them.

Lorin Clarke is a Melbourne-based writer. The new series of her radio and podcast series, The Fitzroy Diaries, is on ABC Radio National and the ABC Listen app now.

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ave you ever heard someone say, “Well, that was a good walk. I feel like we deserve lunch after that!” or “I’ve worked so hard this week; maybe I deserve a bath!”? The idea of deserving something is almost a mathematical way of measuring morality. Difficult experience + rewarding experience = equilibrium, which means rewarding experience + rewarding experience puts you in surplus. Thinking like this is so adorably human; as though there’s a points system for how to live your life.

Public Service Announcement: you don’t have to deserve good things. I bet you can think of several people right now who have things they don’t deserve.

Also, deserving isn’t always the same as getting.

Deserving to win the grand final because you’ve trained hard all season and then losing in the last five minutes of the final game doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve it.

And if you’re awful to people, then you probably don’t deserve all the best things, even if you do get them.

08 JUL 2022

Just Deserves

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

Tastes Like Home edited by Anastasia Safioleas

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PHOTOS BY ARMELLE HABIB

Tastes Like Home Joanna Hu

Steamed Savoury Egg Custard Two Ways Ingredients

Joanna says…

1 egg ½ cup warm everyday stock (or use a good-quality shopbought stock) 1 teaspoon light soy sauce

Chinese Everyday Stock 500g chicken wings or carcasses 4cm piece ginger, skin on, sliced 2 spring onions, halved

Method To make the stock, place the chicken in a large saucepan or stockpot and cover with 12 cups water. Slowly bring to the boil, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for 20 minutes. Skim any scum or impurities from the surface and add the ginger and spring onion. Partially cover the pan and simmer for 2 hours, skimming occasionally. Allow to cool, then strain the stock, discarding the solids.

Chill the stock overnight and remove the layer of fat that forms on the surface. You can keep this fat to cook with later. The stock will keep in the fridge for 5 days, or for up to 3 months in the freezer.

To make the custard, thoroughly whisk the egg, warm stock and soy sauce together and then drain into a small heatproof bowl.

To cook in the microwave, cover with a lid and microwave at 50 per cent power for 2 minutes. Check the consistency after 2 minutes and wipe away any water droplets that appear on the lid. From here, microwave in 30-second increments at 50 per cent power until the custard is just set.

To steam, cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap and pierce holes in the plastic to allow steam to escape.

Place in a bamboo steamer and steam over a gentle heat for 10-12 minutes, or until just set.

NOTE The suggested microwave times above are for a 1100 watt microwave.

M

y love of eggs has been well documented to my friends and family over the years. Eggs in all forms – boiled, fried, scrambled, over easy or poached – are delicious, and only once have I eaten an egg treated with so much disrespect that I couldn’t finish it. When I was picked up from kindergarten by my grandfather, my snack of choice on the walk home was a hard-boiled egg, boiled within an inch of its life. I would happily dive into that slightly crumbly egg in the way people eat an apple.

However, the most nostalgic egg dish for me is the big bowl of steamed savoury egg custard my family would make as part of dinner. This was mainly done for my benefit since I was a picky eater as a child, with an affinity for beige food. I once even constructed a paper sign in front of my dinner bowl that said, “no greens or seafood past this point”. Naturally my parents were pretty concerned with my nutritional needs. Eggs, at least, possessed some nutritional benefit. And this may just be a Chinese thing, but my family were convinced that eating them would also make me smarter. The jury’s out on whether that worked, but I was happy with the encouragement to eat more.

The beaten eggs would be mixed with water, seasoned and steamed into a wobbly custard. I loved to spoon large portions over my rice and mix it all together into a slurry porridge. Even though I am the biggest proponent of texture in foods today, there’s something comforting about a mushy, starchy dish. Soy sauce and sesame oil would make it delightfully umami and fragrant – and as I got older, a bit of black bean chilli oil or spicy pickled mustard vegetable were also fantastic accompaniments.

When my brother was young, my great-grandmother would make a “loaded” version of this dish for him, enriched with mince and very finely chopped vegetables. I used to clamour to be the one to feed him so I could sneak mouthfuls when no‑one was looking. She was always the one who made this dish and after she passed away, no-one else in the family could ever match the perfection she achieved. And even though any steamed egg custard I make probably won’t live up to my childhood memories, it does take me back to that time.

CHINESE-ISH BY JOANNA HU AND ROSHEEN KAUL IS OUT NOW.

08 JUL 2022

Egg Custard

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Serves 1

Puzzles

By Lingo!

by Lee Murray leemurray.id.au SNOB

Using all nine letters provided, can you answer these clues?

Every answer must include the central letter.

Plus, which word uses all nine letters?

by puzzler.com

Sudoku Each column, row and 3 x 3 box must contain all numbers 1 to 9.

CLUES 5 letters Door part Govern Hoops Rage Sheep’s neck

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

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7 letters Add decorative touches to Feeling of annoyance 8 letters Going to (a party) without an invitation

Solutions CROSSWORD ACROSS 1 Compute 5 Panache 9 Barrister 10 Noose 11 Amateur 12 Realise 13 Feat 14 Playwright 16 Underwater 19 Et al. 21 Treason 22 Thinner 24 Enter 25 Sparkling 26 Scenery 27 Thrusts

6 letters Competing Considerate Hurting Modify Outer cover

DOWN 1 Cobra 2 Mortar and pestle 3 United 4 Enthral 5 Portray 6 Non-dairy 7 Cooking utensils 8 Elemental 13 Faultless 15 Preserve 17 Amnesty 18 Extract 20 Ticker 23 Rages

Word Builder

The earliest snob that we know of was from 1785, and it wasn’t what you’d expect. A snob was a cobbler – a shoemaker.

Not long after, students at Cambridge University started using it to refer to people who didn’t go to Cambridge (and were therefore beneath them).

By the 1830s, a snob was a regular workingclass person. It quickly morphed into a lowerclass, vulgar person with no taste. By the 1850s, our snob admires higher-status people and desperately wants to be one. Over the next 60odd years, snob finally became what we know it as today: someone who sees others as inferior and hates them for it. Snob did take one small detour: in 1900s Australian English slang, a snob (or cobbler) was the most difficult sheep to shear, because it was always…the last.

20 QUESTIONS PAGE 9 1 Richard Marles 2 Taurus 3 Fort Denison 4 St Kilda, Melbourne 5 Visible panty line 6 Jennifer Rowe 7 Laos 8 Amanda Gorman 9 One, two, three 10 A tower 11 John Macarthur and William Farrer 12 For we are one and free 13 Sorbonne 14 Sri Lanka (Sirimavo Bandaranaike) 15 Rabbit-Proof Fence 16 Skyhooks 17 Lil Nas X 18 Goodbye 19 a) Gustav Mahler 20 True

Crossword

by Steve Knight

THE ANSWERS FOR THE CRYPTIC AND QUICK CLUES ARE THE SAME.

Quick Clues ACROSS

1 Calculate (7) 5 Style (7) 9 Senior legal professional (9) 10 Length of knotted rope (5) 11 Novice (7) 12 Comprehend (7) 13 Accomplishment (4) 14 Dramatist (10) 16 Submerged (10) 19 Latin abbreviation for “and others” (2,2) 21 Betrayal (7) 22 More lean (7) 24 Go into (5) 25 Effervescent (9) 26 Vista (7) 27 Propels with force (7) DOWN

1 Snake (5) 2 Stone Age tools (6,3,6) 3 Joined (6) 4 Captivate (7) 5 Depict (7) 6 Containing no milk products (3-5) 7 Kitchen implements (7,8) 8 Basic (9) 13 Perfect (9) 15 Maintain (8) 17 Pardon (7) 18 Take out (7) 20 Watch (colloq.) (6) 23 Rants (5)

Cryptic Clues

Solutions

ACROSS

DOWN

1 Cute skirts, tops in orange match petite figure (7) 5 Bag to cramp style (7) 9 Model tries bra with central strap being silk (9) 10 Bouquet conceals ring and choker (5) 11 Green tea and a rum cocktail (7) 12 Cash in register (7) 13 Achievement of podcast legends? (4) 14 Light trouble for Spooner and Shakespeare

1 Shelby’s convertible car clutches even

in doubt (5)

2 Crushing tools demolish older apartments (6,3,6) 3 One starting to use Tinder, randomly

swiping right (6)

4 Ran the assembly then started losing grip (7) 5 Paint fortified red beam (7) 6 Dan, Roy in pants having a creamer feature?

(3-5)

7 Knives, tongs and blowtorch might make

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parties (5)

WORD BUILDER

08 JUL 2022

us listen? (7,8)

8 The French guys in 19ac are primitive (9) 13 Perfect stranger tells us far right lost (9) 15 Keep up when tennis player bounces ball? (8) 17 Pardon me, nasty drunk (7) 18 Take out additional cover for chalet (7) 20 Watch topless cricket broadcast (6) 23 Sour grapes to eschew leading political

5 Hinge Reign Rings Anger Scrag 6 Racing Caring Aching Change Casing 7 Garnish Chagrin 8 Crashing 9 Searching

perhaps (10) 16 Sinking fund doesn’t begin to fix tree war (10) 19 Sampling Metallica and others (2,2) 21 Disloyalty from senator after reshuffle (7) 22 Quality of aspirin intern distributed around hospital… (7) 24 …key when treating recent crushing cold (5) 25 The other option for diner is still brilliant (9) 26 Setting mobile screen with latest display (7) 27 With rust spreading, extract hard drives? (7)

SUDOKU

Click 1976

Keith Moon and Norman Gunston

words by Michael Epis photo by Getty

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THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

K

eith Moon did not like Australians. It all started back in 1968 when his band, The Who, hopped on a flight here from London – which took 30 hours, via Cairo, Bombay (now Mumbai), Karachi and Singapore. Touchdown in Sydney was followed by the obligatory spraying of insecticide throughout the plane, followed by the then obligatory press conference. “Is it true you are a drug addict?” was the first question, directed at Ian McLagan, of the Faces, who were part of the tour. It was all downhill from there. The Australian media were unbelievably crass at the time, and the sensational headlines ensured that everyone was leery of the touring musicians from then on. With good reason perhaps – a flight from Adelaide to Sydney was diverted to Melbourne (Essendon Airport at the time) because the lads had smuggled beer on to the plane.

When they were leaving Australia for New Zealand – where they earned their hotel-trashing reputation – they received a telegram from Prime Minister John Gorton. “You have behaved atrociously while you have been here and we hope you never come back,” it read.

Odd thing for a new prime minister to prioritise.

The band replied that they would not – and kept their word, well, for 41 years at least, until the two remaining members toured in 2009.

So when an extremely annoying Norman Gunston fronted Moon for a quick word – “interview” would be stretching it – at a London gig in 1976, the manic drummer was not in a receptive mood. He shouts and rails at the comic, excoriating his Australianness (among other things, which seem to reference prevailing Australian attitudes, although it’s hard to tell). There doesn’t seem to be a comic element to it; it’s not as if Moon is playing along with the gag when he decided to do a very Keith Moon thing and pour a bottle of Vladivar vodka over Gunston’s combover.

Moon was not one of The Who when they toured here again. He had died long ago, in 1978, overdosing on the pills he was taking to combat his alcoholism.

He died in the same room in the same London flat in which Mama Cass from the Mamas and the Papas had died from a heart attack (not, as legend has it, from eating a ham sandwich).

We’ll make the journey easy Support Coordination Psychosocial Recovery Coach Positive Behaviour Services Early Childhood Intervention Services Parents and Carers Community Friendship Short term accommodation for children

1800 343 287 mcm.org.au