The Big Issue Australia #636 – Chooks! by The Big Issue Australia

Ed.

636 07 MAY 2021

24.

ORLANDO BLOOM

28.

JUDITH LUCY

40.

and PORK WONTON SOUP

NO CASH? NO WORRIES!

Some Big Issue vendors now offer contactless payments.

NATIONAL OFFICE

Chief Executive Officer Steven Persson Chief Financial Officer Jon Whitehead Chief Operating Officer (Interim) Chris Enright National Communications and Partnerships Manager Steph Say National Operations Manager Jeremy Urquhart EDITORIAL

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Books Editor Thuy On Cartoonist Andrew Weldon

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Contents

EDITION

636 24 LETTER TO MY YOUNGER SELF

“It Was Just Electric” Orlando Bloom talks being both a club kid and a Buddhist at 16, losing his pet dog Mighty, and how he just can’t believe he was in The Lord of the Rings trilogy.

28 BOOKS

Positive Vibes Judith Lucy’s new memoir has opened her up to an exciting new future: she’s embraced self-care, doubled down on her career and called off her quest for Mr Right.

12.

Chicken Coop for the Soul 40

by Fiona Scott-Norman

Yes, they offer food security via their fresh-laid eggs, but pet chooks also give a whole lot more. Fiona Scott-Norman sings the praises of our fine feathered friends. cover and contents photo by Getty illustration by Carla Hackett

THE REGULARS

04 Ed’s Letter & Your Say 05 Meet Your Vendor 06 Streetsheet 08 Hearsay & 20 Questions 11 My Word 18 The Big Picture

26 Ricky 27 Fiona 34 Film Reviews 35 Small Screen Reviews 36 Music Reviews 37 Book Reviews

39 Public Service Announcement 43 Puzzles 45 Crossword 46 Click

TASTES LIKE HOME

Grandmère’s Pork Wonton Soup MasterChef favourite Brendan Pang shares his family recipe for this hawker classic: “I mean, who doesn’t love a hot bowl of soup with delicious dumplings?”

Ed’s Letter

by Amy Hetherington Editor @amyhetherington

E FO RT NI GH T LE TT ER OF TH

The Plot Chickens

hy did the chicken cross the road? To buy The Big Issue, of course! Sure, it’s a pedestrian joke. But it’s one we’ve been retelling to groans (and hopefully giggles!) the world over since the 19th century. The first mention of the famous anti-joke was in New York magazine The Knickerbocker back in 1847. While that publication long ago went the way of the dinosaurs (thankfully evolution left us with chickens rather than their towering cousin, the T-rex), here at The Big Issue we are set to celebrate our 25th birthday next month. Keep an eye out for a very special anniversary edition from 4 June, or sign up to our newsletter for all the latest at thebigissue.org.au/newsletter. For 15 of those 25 years, writer, comedian and broadcaster Fiona Scott‑Norman has been making us laugh, think, rage and sleep better (see p27, it’s

a true life-changer) with her popular fortnightly column. Regular readers will also know Fiona as a proud mother of chickens, and the author of This Chicken Life, a free-ranging look into the lives of chooks and their human friends. So, perhaps unsurprisingly, when we met up in late February for the first time in a long time, when folks were slowly flocking back into the Melbourne CBD, talk turned to chickens: her own new “lovely gals” – two Belgian d’Uccles and a couple of Rosecombs – after her original feathered family were killed by a fox a year earlier, and the fact that all over this country there’s been a backyard chicken boom, with a run on poultry during the pandemic. It’s how we hatched a plan for this edition. But it’s really only now, reading Fiona’s story, and her chats with chicken people nationwide, that I realise just how soul‑enriching and soothing these humble birds can be. And that’s no yoke!

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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 24 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

I don’t know the lovely men who sell at Neutral Bay, but I feel fortunate to run into them every few weeks. I’m a dedicated fan: my life is mapped in your calendars and I keep them every year to show what I did – old school! I celebrate the end of every year by giving my friends your calendars – supporting The Big Issue team is important to me. I have never met a Big Issue salesperson who doesn’t smile, welcome a stranger and keep at it each week with that same positive attitude. My five-year-old also knows how important you all are. Thank you. TAMMY MUNRO NEUTRAL BAY I NSW

Ed – those lovely men are Cyril and Lee. Thanks to Fiona Scott-Norman for informing cat owners about their responsibilities regarding pet cat ownership in Ed#634. Free-roaming domestic cats are responsible for the deaths of millions of Australian native animals. I spent a number of years volunteering for a native animal rescue organisation and most of my call-outs were for cat attacks by domestic cats. Please keep your pets contained. LOIS KATZ GLEBE I NSW

• 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 21 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

Tammy wins a copy of Brendan Pang’s cookbook This Is a Book About Dumplings. Read his recipe for Grandmère’s Pork Wonton Soup on p40. We’d also love to hear your thoughts, feedback and suggestions: SUBMISSIONS@BIGISSUE.ORG.AU

YOUR SAY SUBMISSIONS MAY BE EDITED FOR CLARITY AND SPACE.

Meet Your Vendor

Nakita

SELLS THE BIG ISSUE AT THE APPLE STORE ON HAY ST AND MYER BRIDGE, PERTH

interview by Andrew Joske photo by Ross Swanborough

PROUD UNIFORM PARTNER OF THE BIG ISSUE VENDORS.

07 MAY 2021

Selling The Big Issue is a family business for me, as my mum, Jackie, introduced me to it back in September 2016. This seems fitting, as family is the most important part of my life. There are a lot of us – I have three older and three younger siblings, plus another sister that passed away as a baby. I love Mum, but I have not always been able to live with her. Unfortunately, she experienced domestic violence, so it was not always safe, and when I was 11 years old, I spent three years in foster care. Sometimes with my siblings and sometimes we were separated. Being removed from Mum had a pretty big impact on me. There were dramatic scenes – I ran away from foster care three times. Getting split up really hurt. I got distracted from school, and my schoolwork really suffered. I also became quiet and withdrawn. In foster care, I got moved to a school where I was bullied a lot. The best part of school was getting into the soccer program at Woodvale. I was training four times a week. I left school at the end of Year 10, and I intended to keep playing soccer but I hurt my knee. I had surgery in 2017, but it is still not 100 per cent. A big part of my life are my siblings, and my two beautiful nephews. I help my oldest sister look after them sometimes and pick them up from school. The oldest one is nine years old, and he loves me to play Fortnite with him. The younger one is six, and we watch movies together and play Lego. They both play soccer also, and I am helping out training the under-6s as a volunteer. My journey with The Big Issue has been all about developing my confidence and coming out of my shell. I am naturally shy, so it was a big deal talking to strangers and selling magazines when I first started. I love getting to work with Mum, and chatting to my customers and just asking them how their day was. I am also naturally a bit of a homebody, so selling magazines helps me to get out and about. The money I earn really helps us to get through each fortnight and sometimes allows us to do things that are a bit special. I turned 21 last year, and Mum and I were meant to go to Sydney for my 21st, which would have been my first time on a plane, but unfortunately lockdown happened. That was hard, but it couldn’t be helped. Then Mum booked a trip to Broome for my 22nd but WA went into lockdown. Finally, we got to go to Broome in March and we had a spectacular time. The highlight was all the tours we went on – to pearl farms, Matso’s brewery, the 12 Mile Bird Park, the croc park and Cable Beach camel tours! I do not think I will sell The Big Issue forever. It has been great, but I’m looking forward to doing different things. My aim is to do an Educational Assistant course. I love kids and I really want to assist students who need extra help. I have started and stopped the course a bit, as I continue to work on and improve my mental health. The great thing is that I passed the first section so I know when I put my mind to it, I’ll be able to finish it!

Streetsheet

Stories, poems and pictures by Big Issue vendors and friends

Goodbye Raylene

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

Surf’s Up and Up I like selling the surfing edition [Ed#633] at North Sydney. On a nice sunny day my sign got lots of attention. I was reading up about Layne Beachley and Pam Burridge. Layne was from Manly and is six years older than me, but we were both born in May. She won seven world titles for surfing. I can’t surf. I also sold this one at Coogee and Marrickville Markets. I sold 70 over

ANDREW JOSKE OPERATIONS MANAGER I WA

two weekends! I regularly work in North Sydney, the Tramsheds and Marrickville Markets. LEE NORTH SYDNEY I SYDNEY

Everything Changes Ah everything is changing; some days you sell and the next it slows down. Over the last 12 months it is always changing. People have shown true resilience and have been tested, but the community

has become closer because of it. My life has changed, too, some good and sometimes bad. Bad was when coronavirus happened and everyone went into lockdown. That was hard because I felt very isolated from the community, but it was good when lockdown was over because the community came together and became even closer. People were still buying The Big Issue. Nothing much has

PHOTO BY ROSS SWANBOROUGH

VALE

RAYLENE

t is with sadness that we farewell our much-loved vendor Raylene, who has passed away after a short illness. There was so much to Raylene that made her so special. The gifts that she offered to the world were love without judgement and generosity without expectation. If you knew Raylene, you knew what it was like to be nurtured and cared for. Every Big Issue launch, Raylene would bring some home-baked cookies for her fellow vendors to take with them on pitch. She had a kind word for each and every one of us at The Big Issue, giving her attention and time to everyone without fear or favour. She laughed as easily as she loved and was mischievous until the end. It’s these qualities that allowed Raylene to keep moving forward in life, even when the going got tough. A loving and devoted mother, it was her two boys and grandkids that made her happiest. Raylene – you were one beautiful soul, and it was a privilege to have called you our friend. Rest in peace mate.

changed about selling The Big Issue: people buy it because they know it has been around for a long time. I have not lost a great deal of customers. In fact, I have met some new customers. The world is a very volatile place and is very uncertain. Me personally, I am always confident and ready for the change.

Issue and the kindness of people. Some of our friends at The Big Issue have passed away, but the spirit of The Big Issue has carried on. It’s helped people improve their lives.

and bring me joy. The colours get me out of a black hole. I put these pictures in a frame. The Botanic Gardens is a place that is like gold and drags me out of the black hole.

TED QUEENS PLAZA & TOOWONG I BRISBANE

JACOB CNR HUNTER & MACQUARIE STS I SYDNEY

Golden Garden

Generous James

DAVID H CIBO CNR GRENFELL & KING WILLIAM STS & HAIGH’S RUNDLE MALL I ADELAIDE

During Easter on the Saturday and the Sunday I was walking down the streets of Sydney near George Street and I saw lots of people that I know. When I was homeless, I worked on the food vans. Being homeless you don’t know how many friends you have. But walking through Sydney that weekend, I saw many of my friends who I knew from when I was homeless. It was the best thing to see them. Walking around it was like having to dodge Easter eggs. When I feel down, I love to go to the Botanic Gardens and take photos of all the flowers. The colours of the flowers really make me happy

Over the Easter weekend, I had a customer buy five mags from me, which caught me by surprise and was a great help! I walked into the Melbourne Big Issue office a week later and was informed that the customer, James, had got in touch and bought 50 mags for me to sell and start the new edition with! This is a huge support for me and unexpected. Thank you very much James for this generous and nice surprise. Hope you keep supporting The Big Issue through your vendors in Sydney! I’m very moved by this surprise.

Always Kindness I’ve been doing The Big Issue for 22 years and I’m celebrating my 70th birthday on 17 May. Like death and taxes, there’s been changes in management, but there’s always been kindness and people helping me. On Monday, the 7-Eleven guy gave me a pie; I gave it to a homeless man and bought him a coffee. My new pitch is in Toowong, and people are very kind. I’m very grateful for The Big

DAVID MYER & H&M I MELBOURNE

DR EW, YO U’ GOT MA ILVE

Rose’s Are Read We only met once; she was a nice woman. We had a good chat. It was nice of her to send me a card – thanks Rose! What I like about The Big Issue is that I can be my own boss.

ALL VENDOR CONTRIBUTORS TO STREETSHEET ARE PAID FOR THEIR WORK.

07 MAY 2021

DREW SYDNEY | NSW

Hearsay

Andrew Weldon Cartoonist

“

I will argue with anyone that wants to argue with me on this point: I dare them. ‘Crying Out Loud’ is the best love song in history. Please come and argue with me on this point. I’ll take you down every time.

Author Arundhati Roy on the trauma and chaos wrought by COVID in India, where virologists predict that the number of cases will rise to more than half a million a day. THE GUARDIAN I UK

“In the wake of John Howard’s gun reforms, the risk of an Australian dying by gunshot quickly fell by more than half and it’s stayed that low for 25 years.” Associate professor Philip Alpers, from Sydney University’s School of Public Health, on the legacy of the Port Arthur tragedy, 25 years on. THE AUSTRALIAN I AU

Meat Loaf gets emotional about the passing of his friend and collaborator, songwriter Jim Steinman, who wrote the songs on Bat Out of Hell, one of the biggest-selling records of all time.

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

ROLLING STONE | US

“Mindfulness increased prosocial actions for people who tend to view themselves as more interdependent. However, for people who tend to view themselves as more independent, mindfulness actually decreased prosocial behaviour.” Michael Poulin, an associate professor of psychology at the University of Buffalo, on the dark side of Western mindfulness – selfishness. Studies show independent people who’ve received mindfulness instruction are 33 per cent less likely to volunteer for charity, but interdependent people are 40 per cent more likely to volunteer.

USA, on a neighbours’ gender reveal party that detonated 36kg of explosives – causing property damage and reports of an earthquake. They made a blue. THE GUARDIAN I UK

“Someone who has a family member on their death bed probably doesn’t care about the cricket. My thoughts go out to everyone over here.” Australian cricketer Adam Zampa on why he has quit the IPL mid‑tournament, returning to Australia just before travellers from India were banned. THE AGE I AU

THE NEW DAILY I AU

“We heard this God-awful blast. It knocked pictures off our walls…I’m all up for silliness and whatnot, but that was extreme.” Sara Taglieri, from New Hampshire,

“The system hasn’t collapsed. The government has failed. Perhaps ‘failed’ is an inaccurate word, because what we are witnessing is not criminal negligence, but an outright crime against humanity.”

“I don’t have anything else I want to be doing other than sitting on a couch with [my wife] Lauren eating cheeseburgers.” Actor and comedian Seth Rogen (Superbad) on how he plans to spend his second birthday in lockdown. On his last birthday friends drove past his house and tooted their horns (not a euphemism). GQ I US

“[Hospital] workers here are fighting COVID and all illnesses here every day, and such behaviours are offensive to them and to all the people of Calabria.” Francesco Procopio, the general director of Pugliese Ciaccio Hospital, on the firing of fire-safety officer Salvatore Scumace for not showing up to work…for 15 years! Scumace stands accused of earning €538,000 (A$840,000) for a job he allegedly never performed. THE NEW YORK TIMES I US

“After 10 minutes vomiting set in, after 15 minutes I was losing consciousness. My arm felt like it was in a vice. Worst pain of my life. My kidneys shut down and pretty much melted from the venom. My platelets dropped so low I was bleeding like a stuck pig

20 Questions by Rachael Wallace

01 What is the name of the green

rooster on the Kellogg’s Corn Flakes box? 02 What was the final AFL team that

Jason Akermanis played for? 03 Who was the first African-American

woman to be nominated for a Best Actress Oscar? 04 In what year did the Sydney Opera

House open? 05 From which flower does the spice

saffron come? 06 Who sang the classic 1964 song

‘Ferry Cross the Mersey’? 07 Where in Australia is the Big Mango? 08 The Hawaiian Islands were once

known by what other name? 09 Which Shakespearean play does

this line come from: “If music be the food of love, play on”?

“This stupid male idea of power, it’s so dumb. It’s saddo and dumdum. We’re on a second-grade level here: Saddo and Dumdum. We’re better than this.” REM singer Michael Stipe sums up the Trump years. THE GUARDIAN I US

“The project just started off as a lark, in a way. When I hold a fossil in my hand, I can’t help wondering at the improbability that this very beast was alive millions of years ago, and here I am holding part of its skeleton – it seems so improbable.”

SCIENCE DAILY I US

“Trickle-down economics has never worked. It’s time to grow the economy from the bottom up and middle out.” US President Joe Biden, pooh-poohing the economic mindset that has been in the ascendant since 1980. TWITTER

“I do have a ride-on lawnmower, which makes me feel very handy. I have a chainsaw, too, but [I’m] one of those people who needs proper lessons before using anything like that, so I avoid cutting my hand off.” Stephen Curry (The Castle), who moved to the country last year, on his latest role as lawn-worker. Maybe he’ll actually really dig a hole, just like Dale Kerrigan.

10 Which country won the inaugural

gold medal for women’s Rugby Sevens at the 2018 Commonwealth Games? 11 What is the tympanic membrane

better known as? 12 Who was John Lennon’s first wife? 13 True or false? As of February 2021,

Gina Rinehart is the richest person in Australia. 14 How many noses does a slug have? 15 Who is the local judge on RuPaul’s

Drag Race Down Under? 16 What type of food is Greek kasseri? 17 Carla Bruni is known for being a

singer, supermodel and what else? 18 Who won the 2021 Grammy Award

for Best Pop Solo Performance? 19 What series of books and movies

was inspired by the crimes of convicted murderer Ronald DeFeo Jr? 20 What was the name of Sherlock

Holmes’ landlady?

07 MAY 2021

THE COURIER MAIL I AU

University of California professor Charles Marshall, who set about answering his own question of “How many T-rex dinosaurs were there?” and found the answer is anywhere between 140 million and 42 billion.

THE AGE I AU

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

ANSWERS ON PAGE 43

and in the end I needed four blood “I’m a guy.” transfusions. A man’s plaintive plea, It was a mess… when asked his opinion Anyone want of various tote bags. to buy a tiger Overheard by Suze, snake?” Melbourne CBD. Snake catcher Ben Avery, after he survived one of the worst bites in Queensland’s history. EAR2GROUND

Black Books Whistling, drinking and sobbing in the aisles – Rose Anderson discovers not all customers play by the book.

here it is: a storefront filled with beautiful novels. Journals. Notebooks. In the back, second-hand books, along with that sweet and musty smell. It’s my first bookshop pilgrimage since the beginning of COVID-19. It’s everything I’ve been missing. Except the other customers. It’s only five minutes before somebody annoys me with their whistling. This type of person has been classified by writer Shaun Bythell. Genus: Viator non tacitus – The NotSo-Silent Traveller. Species: Stridens – Whistler. Bythell’s Seven Kinds of People You Find in Bookshops is a useful guide. A second-hand bookshop owner in Wigtown, Scotland, Bythell has made a name for himself skewering his customers, to the amusement (and despair) of those very same customers. His Linnaean classifications feature lively characters such as The Bearded Pensioner (Senex cum barba) and The Expert (Peritus). His patrons commit all sorts of atrocities, including humming, whistling, engaging him in actual conversation, and haggling. Bythell spares no-one, not even his staff, but that’s okay: chewing up your devotees is par for the course, just ask Pelops. I’m conscious of my behaviour for another reason: I previously worked in a bookstore. So intense was the experience that when I first began the audiobook of Bythell’s first book – The Diary of a Bookseller – I leapt out of bed and fell over myself in my haste to silence the narrator. The horror! At once it returned to me, like a claw peeling back the scab of a wound long thought healed – the monster is real, and you’ve met him before. When I tentatively attempted the audiobook again, to my surprise I found it soothing. It was like being in a bookstore, only the boss had your back. And you didn’t have to be nice to the customers. Or the boss. In my experience, some customers are to be expected. The man swigging vodka in the religion aisle. Another brandishing a book in one hand and his phone in the other while he roars, “I ASSUME you can PRICE MATCH!?” Some behaviours are inevitable. Like the Kama Sutra wandering about the shop seemingly of its own accord (usually to be found in Computing). Other things are more insidious. The man who told me his wife had a restraining order against him, and he cannot see his children.

Then, the unusual: the man who asked my colleague in a heavy French accent if our store had books on learning English. An unexpected question because, when I served him two days prior, he spoke English fluently without any sort of accent. Or the young woman crying in the relationship aisle. She peered at me beneath her curtain of jet-black hair, and slowly raised a book. “Do you believe in love? Do you believe it’s possible?” Many questions were vague and unanswerable. On these occasions, I happily confessed my ignorance. But sometimes, my memory betrayed me. “Do you have a book with, er, sort of, circles and stuff in it?” Here, I knew the answer. And for that I hated myself. Just. A. Little. Bit. Because really, why encourage people? But the best question came from an exchange student who asked if we had a “treasure dictionary”. “Do you mean a thesaurus? A collection of words with similar meanings?” “Yes!” Later, I discovered both treasure and thesaurus come from the Greek thēsauros which means treasure, a treasury or treasure chest. How beautiful: a treasure chest spilling words, slipping through your fingers like rubies, which you link to describe a stunning necklace. Or strong words that embolden you, like a golden sceptre. Perhaps I can find words that make me look sophisticated, and string them across my brow like a crown. Though, more likely, I drop the lot and they smash and I have to cut my bare feet on words like “vitric”, “acicular”, “spicate” or that hideous word “ubiquitous” that everybody uses despite it drawing attention to itself for its squeaky pointy pointlessness. Anyway, one thing that can be concluded is that booksellers are asked many questions that they cannot answer. And they may get things wrong. Booksellers are like priests consulting the oracle. Sometimes they have the book, the prophesy; sometimes they’re sold out and you have to wait until next Tuesday. But in honour of the tradition of generations of booksellers, they will always try. With this burden of knowledge, I approach the counter and hand over two books. I keep small talk to a minimum. I imbibe no liquor, nor do I whistle. But most notably, since the books I’ve selected are second‑hand, I do not haggle the price. Not a cent. (Or a penny.) I’m sure Bythell would approve. This time. Rose Anderson has been published by Another Chicago Magazine and The School Magazine. She’s writing an eco‑memoir on motherhood and creativity.

07 MAY 2021

by Rose Anderson @sparkintheflash

My Word

PHOTO BY GETTY

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CHICKEN COOP FOR THE SOUL

Australians love chickens – even before the coronavirus backyard boom, they were our fourth most popular pet. Fiona Scott‑Norman talks to chook lovers around the nation to discover the benefits our feathered friends bring. Fiona Scott-Norman is a columnist for The Big Issue, author of This Chicken Life and a cabaret director, DJ, performer and teacher. @fscottnorman

Michelle King, a nail technician from Perth, had to close her home-based salon for three months during the peak of COVID in 2020. Her husband Murray, already recovering from an accident when the pandemic hit, lost his building business. Murray was depressed, and Michelle was adrift. Visiting her sister’s farm, and sitting outside in the chicken run, chilling with a glass of wine, something clicked. King started seeing what her sister saw: the personalities, the drama, the way a mother hen cares for her chicks. This was the answer. “I was hooked. I had something to look forward to! I researched breeds, I borrowed my sister’s incubator, I bought fertile eggs from a Buff Orpington breeder. Three weeks later we had chicks.” Murray was dead against chickens, didn’t want them crapping on his pavers, but

07 MAY 2021

Very hard. I couldn’t shift out of it. I was, I need something to change, and I need it to change NOW. So I got in the car with my daughter, and we went for a drive, and I bought chickens.”

en Mo is a drug and alcohol consultant at a hospital in Sydney’s outer west. A frontline worker. In early 2020, her pandemic was not going well. Her eldest brother’s partner gave birth to premature twins in December 2019, and they didn’t want her coming round. Her other brother’s partner was pregnant, and they didn’t want her coming round. Her friends were nervous. “They were scared and weird with me. I didn’t go anywhere, because everyone was scared to have me over,” she says on the phone from the hospital car park, dressed in her perennial scrubs. “I mean, I understand, but I was getting pretty isolated. People were ringing up asking about COVID. It’s not like I had a direct line to the government.” Mo’s anxiety ramped up. The family pet rabbit died. Smoke from the bushfires had impacted her health. A close friend died after a fight with an aggressive cancer. “It was horrible.

CHICK PICS

FIONA WITH BB

ALICE AND TEDDY JUST LOVE THEIR PET CHOOKS

SCH NITT Y SAYS HI TO DAR REN

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BRAN DI GIVE S HER CHIC K A PECK

JES SAM Y AN D CR EAM Y

Michelle wore him down. He’s now their biggest fan. “He loves them,” says King. “Watching chickens help my depressed husband through a very difficult time in his life has been a heartfelt moment for me. Who knew they would be therapy?” In Melbourne, an all-too-familiar, boxed-in 2020 COVID lockdown story was unfolding at James Brennan’s house in Hadfield. He was studying and tutoring online. His partner Liz, who works full-time for Hume council, was working online. Their children, Archie and Audrey, were at school – online – stressing out when the tech didn’t work, unable to see their friends. There was a lot going on inside the house. “It was hard to find your own area,” says Brennan. “Spending time outside with the chickens was such a circuit‑breaker. It was the best decision, getting chickens during lockdown.” Great minds think alike, and in the early months of 2020, as COVID hit, spooked Australians scrambled so desperately to buy backyard chickens that chooks were as rare as – well – hen’s teeth. News stories quoted backyard chook suppliers who’d been utterly cleaned out. None of them had seen anything like it. One Canberra seller told the ABC that his Fyshwick produce store was fielding 20 to 50 calls a day, all asking the same question: “Have you got chickens? Have you got chickens?” Rodney Bellchambers did not have chickens. Neither did the New Leaf Nursery in NSW, which employed someone to answer the phone and tell more than 300 callers that there were, indeed, no chickens. It was a frenzy. Australia hasn’t leaned so consciously into backyard chooks for decades, arguably since the Great Depression, and certainly not since the tipping point of the late 1950s, when commercial industrial facilities took off and removed the economic incentive for us to run our own flocks. In retrospect, a run on chickens was inevitable. The pandemic followed hard on the heels of the bushfires, the world wobbled, supermarket shelves were denuded, nurseries were selling out of edible seedlings, and concepts such as food security, permaculture,

self‑sufficiency and prepping moved from the abstract to urgent. Australia had no food scarcity issues, as it happened, but it felt like we did. And if there are bare shelves where you expect eggs, and people are wild‑eyed to the point of panic-buying loo roll, it’s a short step to “We’re buying chickens NOW.” Jessamy Miller, the assistant editor of Australasian Poultry magazine and editor of Grass Roots magazine, is a poultry advocate and expert. She noticed that even chook people couldn’t get chooks. “They were wanting to restock after the bushfires, and there wasn’t a chicken to be had, because non-chicken people had bought them,” she says on the phone from her productive inner-city garden in Melbourne. I can hear her two fat pekin bantams, Peaches and Creamy, bok bok bok in the background. “But I see it as a good thing. It was an exciting opportunity for a new wave of people to experience chooks, to have them in their gardens and lives. It was an expansion of the community.” Chicken people are always alert for opportunities to expand the reach of chickens, aiming, as they are, to spread the word. This is partly because there are concrete advantages to running a few hens. It’s healthier for you to eat freshly laid eggs from your own chooks – it’s sustainable, their poop is excellent compost, they’ll snack on your food scraps (which reduces food waste and is better for the environment), they’ll turn over your garden and eat bugs, they’re a central plank in permaculture and food security, and it’s a way happier environment for the chicken than pumping out eggs in a battery farm. Tick, tick, tick. But while we’re lured by the promise of free googs and the hope of self‑sufficiency in an uncertain future, Miller says there’s a raft of benefits people don’t expect from chooks, attributes that gave chickens a chance to shine during COVID. “Animals in general, but definitely chickens, have been massively helpful to people’s wellbeing through lockdown and the pandemic. A tremendously positive impact on people’s states of mind.

Feed them a complete, balanced and nutritious diet. Grower crumble for chicks, layer pellets or seed mix once they’re mature. Food scraps are a treat and a means to bonding, not the main course.

The best remedy for a poorly chicken is supportive care – a quiet place away from the flock, with food and water. If she’s really sick, take her to the vet. Extend the same care as for your cat or dog.

It can be a project and a distraction. Chickens get you out of the house. People also share chickens with their children, and spend that deep time with them. They’re especially important for people living by themselves. Chooks give you someone to chat to and get out of bed for.” You could argue that chooks bought as a response to the pandemic are the unsung mental health heroes of the pandemic. Heroes with feathers. And, as it turns out, you’d not be wrong. It wasn’t difficult to find people who were transformed by getting chickens during lockdown. As a chook lover myself (current flock of five bantams: Sister BB, Dusty, Fatty, Salty and Karen), I’m a member of several online poultry groups, and after putting the word out for chicken stories the response was immediate. Some stories

They need sufficient room to express their chookiness: foraging, dust-baths, scratching. Absolute minimum half a square metre per chook in the coop, a square metre in the run. Ideally, daily freeranging. Confined chickens will get bored and act up. Noone thrives in hotel quarantine!

radiated joy, and the uplift that comes from chicken maths (where your flock inexplicably multiplies) and the silliness chickens bring. James Dodd lives in Byron Bay with his fiancé Marc. He bought four chooks in March 2020 – Harry, Meghan, Wuhan and Corona – and is now up to 13 birds. He jokes that his first egg cost him $600, and laughs that Harry chases Marc around the yard. Good times. Samantha Murray from South Australia began with five ISA browns early last year, moved quickly into heritage breeds, has just spent $2500 on an incubator, now has 30 birds of “showable” quality, and is officially obsessed. Darren Hume, who works the mines in Mount Isa, got chooks for the eggs and to have something to save his sanity as COVID shut down travel. He’s now shocked to find himself bonded to his gal Schnitty, who hops

07 MAY 2021

Jessamy Miller's Must-Dos for New Chicken Owners

Build trust. Be kind. Don’t chase them. Speak to them in a calm, quiet voice, and keep your movements slow and predictable. Sit with a treat, and let them come to you.

CHICKS OF THE TRADE

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Provide your gals with a predator-proof enclosure. Chickens are prey animals and super tasty to foxes, dogs, snakes, quolls and raptors. The coop must be secure and lockable, ditto for the run. Do this before bringing them home.

There’s a balcony with a railing overlooking Jen Mo’s driveway, and every afternoon, when she returns home from the hospital, her three Australorps – Mumma, Big Red and Beaky – are waiting there for her, heads peeking over the rail, taking turns to keep watch. As she drives up they start making a ruckus, singing their egg songs, rushing up as she gets out of the car. “I walk with them to the coop, and collect their eggs, and I pick up each egg individually and show them. ‘Whose egg is this? Is this yours?’ I make a big deal out of it. They’re so proud of what they’ve done; they can’t stop telling me about it.” Jen no longer bites her nails. A big deal. Her anxiety has reduced. Her grief is manageable. She’s spending quality time with her daughter, Polly, who’s no longer just sitting in her room on a screen. “We’ve got something in common now, and she’s really come out of her shell. Chicken magic! I wake up with purpose now. For ages, horrible things happened, and I was waking up with dread. Now, I wake up to see the chickens, and I’m excited. It’s become the pivotal part of my day.”

MICHELLE GETS SOME CHICKEN THERAPY

MA RC AN D HA RR Y TH E RO OS TE R

MU RR AY AN D HI S FLOC K

PRINCESS POPCORN

JEN AND HEN

AU DR EY CH ILL S WIT H TH E CH OO KS

07 MAY 2021

chickens occupy a unique position in the lives of humans. They support in practical, concrete ways, with their eggs and poop, their industrious digging, even with their flesh. But their role as a therapy animal is equally significant, and it’s important not to underestimate the complexity of their needs. “I think people’s dream of chook keeping is very idyllic,” says Jessamy Miller. “They have a sentimental idea of chickens. People think they’re small and cheap and simple, and don’t require any work, but you need to realise that free-ranging chooks can destroy the garden, everything on Earth finds them delicious and wants to eat them, and they’re going to poop on the back porch and drive you crazy. They’re not an egg-laying machine. They’re birds and they’re individuals, with needs.” Luckily, the more we pay attention to chickens and respond to their needs, the happier and healthier they are, and the more they can offer us back.

on his shoulder to eat apple. “It was a surprise. But if you take the time, you find one of the girls is more than just a chicken.” Many, however, credited their chooks with having rescued them in some way, changed them. Three families have gone vegetarian after connecting with the chooks and realising they’re intelligent and individual. Some of those individuals are particularly good with children. Alice Moore lives in Old Beach, Tasmania, with her husband and two young boys, both of whom have autism. Their chooks, obtained during their first lockdown in March 2020, brought order and structure to their lives. “They gave us routine in lockdown, which is a huge thing for autistic children. It kept us going. The kids loved being able to run out there first thing in the morning to let them out, and they knew that once they collected eggs and put the chickens to bed that it was time for them to go to bed. Teddy, our two-year-old, has very little patience for anything. But I’d find him sitting on a log, observing them and waiting to gain the chickens’ trust so that they would come and sit with him.” Brandi Rinaldi, a nurse at Wonthaggi hospital, says that chickens became her decompression. “Chickens are underrated. They’re my therapy. We were working 12-hours shifts, and you don’t get a lot of time to debrief like you should. To go home and stand in the yard and watch them peck around? Nothing else is really happening – all of a sudden, there is no COVID.” Chickens have flourished during this time. Their talents are particularly suited to times of crisis, bringing people together. Kaliope, from South Australia, set her chickens up in the front yard, and during lockdown a community formed around people chatting about her chooks. James Brennan’s been giving eggs to his neighbours, and landlord, forging stronger relationships. What’s clear is that because we’ve been forced to spend time at home, Australians have had the time to properly set up, engage with and learn from their girls. Part pet, part livestock, backyard

series by Tamara Kenneally

The Big Picture

On a Wing and a Prayer Tamara Kenneally not only photographs chickens, she rescues them, too. by Jessamy Miller @sunimiller

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Jessamy Miller grew up on a rare breeds poultry farm so naturally became a poultry journalist. She’s a co‑author of Happy Hens (ABC Books).

Rescue birds Pikelet, Bucket, Neptune and Plumcake hanging at Lefty’s.

FOR MORE, GO TO TAMARAKENNEALLYPHOTOGRAPHY.COM OR @TAMARAKENNEALLYPHOTOGRAPHY

07 MAY 2021

started an animal refuge in 2011 for sheep. I said yes to some chickens and that was it. They took my heart and I became obsessed with helping them,” says Tamara Kenneally, who runs farm sanctuary Lefty’s Place in Victoria’s Macedon Ranges. A photographer by trade, she didn’t intend to become a crusader for battery hens, but their plight resonated deeply with her. “I’ve got about 60 chooks, mostly ex-battery, but also unwanted chicks from hatching projects. Backyard chicken surrenders have risen since COVID; new owners don’t want them when they discover chicken-keeping involves hard work.” While Kenneally is frustrated by people’s lack of responsibility with hatching projects and backyard hens, it’s the commercial egg industry that breaks her heart. There are 19 million hens kept on commercial egg farms in Australia. These hybrids have been selectively bred to lay daily, which is highly taxing to their bodies. After 18 months, when hens finally take a break to moult their feathers, they are viewed as “spent layers”. They are put down, and replaced by a fresh set of pullets. “Caged hens are one of the most miserable creatures you will find. They have no room to stretch, flap their wings, or express natural behaviours like scratching and nesting. They are not meant to be seen because consumers couldn’t live with how terrible the conditions are. Barns and free-range farms are little better, with thousands of hens cramped together,” Kenneally says. “The birds I rescue are injured, missing their feathers and terrified of the outdoors. It might take months before they are prepared to stand under the open sky. But they find the dirt in minutes and have a dust bath. Their instincts kick in and tell them how to be a chicken.” Kenneally shares photo essays including ‘The Price of Eggs’ with followers through social media, and tells the stories of birds such as Bobby Bob Bob, her first and favourite rescue. Although disabled, Bobby is now eight years old and living her best chook life. “I’ve always photographed animals, but social media means I can share information more widely. I hope that seeing the individual chickens, the expression in their eyes, will affect how people feel, and sow the seeds of change. I know I make a difference to chooks I rescue, but I want to make a bigger impact.” Kenneally wants eggs to become something humans no longer use. “The egg industry is so big that no-one thinks about the chickens, just about the food. I ask people to research the system themselves and consider alternatives. Make a kind choice. These rescued hens are beautiful, thinking creatures. It doesn’t matter how much they have suffered, they run out every morning like it’s going to be the most exciting day of their lives.”

Rosemary was rescued from a caged-egg farm in Victoria. She lived four happy years at Lefty’s.

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Rescue chook Xena was found trapped between transport crates in an abattoir.

Ex-commercial layers, living the good life at Lefty’s.

Prudence was rescued from a manure pile at a caged-egg farm.

Pancake was rescued from slaughter and had surgery to fix her broken femur.

et me love the world like a mother,” wrote American poet Maggie Smith. “Let me be tender when it lets me down.” As Mother’s Day rolls around each May, I always find myself thinking of those people who find the day hard. Women who want to be mothers, but aren’t. Women who have lost a child. And those who no longer have their mothers around to give flowers to, or never did. When I first became a mother, 10 years ago, I was so utterly bewildered by my new identity, so unsure of it, that if I went out without my pram, I had an inexplicable urge to let people know I did, in fact, have a baby. After years of full-time work and freedom, caring for someone else on a daily basis was a foreign world to me. How was I supposed to fill the days, I wondered, staring at my small wordless companion. How long would this go on for? And when my son started to move, and I became his bodyguard as well as his carer, I found the eternal watchfulness exhausting after a lifelong habit of disappearing into books or daydreams when things got difficult. Why does no-one tell you how hard this is? I asked myself, like every other mother of a toddler before me. “It all comes back to you,” a woman told me one day in a charity shop as I dropped off some old clothes while juggling a grumpy three-year-old and a fretful newborn. I looked at her in disbelief. It felt impossible to see anything beyond the two faces, the two small, vulnerable bodies I needed to somehow keep safe and fed and washed. It felt like such hard, thankless work, with no end in sight. And then one day, at a writers’ festival, I listened to an elderly woman talk about her life as a carer for her husband. “It’s a privilege to do something for someone that they can’t do for themselves,” she said. Hearing her, I realised that the work of carers and parents may not always be valued, nor even seen, by many, but it comes with other rewards. Even if my children were the only people who noticed my work, who even knew what we did on our long days together at home, it mattered. These days, my kids are at school and those luxuries that I longed for – time, space, unbroken sleep – have all come back to me like they never left. My kids are now independent people with their own private worlds. It happened slowly – that moment my son muttered a joke

to me under his breath that he knew I’d find funny, or rode off on his bike with a friend, or made his own toast. They have a whole world at school – identities and friendships and full days of learning – that I know little of. While my eyes are still fixed on them, theirs’ are set eagerly on the future. Of course, sometimes I miss those early days, the weight of those babies in my arms, but it’s amazing to see them grow, to discover their talents and concerns as people as they step into the wider world. When I first had children, I thought that mothering was an identity. It still is, of course, but more than that, it’s a verb. It’s about caring for others, looking out for them, helping, guiding, praising. Keeping your eyes on what matters to them, and knowing that making a small, positive difference to someone else’s day is enough. These days I often find myself with extra kids: neighbours, my sons’ school friends, nieces and nephews. The empty chair at the table for that elusive third child I wanted but never quite got around to having is now occupied by a classmate whose mother lives overseas, or the neighbour kid looking for someone to clap her cartwheel or listen to her breathless stories until her own mum gets home. I can see now that the work of mothering, and of loving the world like a mother, isn’t just reserved to those who have children of their own, but to anyone who taps into their human instinct to nurture and care for others. All around me, I see child-free friends and people I admire channelling their empathy and creativity and hard graft into successful businesses, works of art, activism, books, the environment, adored pets and nieces and nephews and students. They are the teachers and aunties and mentors and business owners and foster parents. They are the unpaid carers looking after family members and friends, whose workload has only increased since COVID. There are so many ways to care. I’m thinking, too, of Grace Tame’s unforgettable words: “It shouldn’t take having children to have a conscience. And, actually, on top of that, having children doesn’t guarantee a conscience.” So on this and every other Mother’s Day I send out flowers and good thoughts to everyone who loves the world like a mother. Who is tender when it lets them down.

Zoe Deleuil (zoedeleuil.com) is a Perth writer. Her debut novel, The Night Village, will be published by Fremantle Press in August.

This Mother’s Day, Zoe Deleuil sends her love to everyone who shows the world some tender loving care.

07 MAY 2021

Earth’s Mothers

Letter to My Younger Self 24

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It Was Just Electric Actor Orlando Bloom talks leaving home at 16, his struggle with dyslexia – and the heartbreaking death of his dog, Mighty. by Jane Graham The Big Issue UK @janeannie

hen I was 16 I left Canterbury and moved to London on my own. I was very determined. I wanted to be an actor; I knew it was the only thing I wanted to do. I felt like I had outgrown Canterbury and I wanted to get to London. I wanted to join the National Youth Theatre and I also just wanted to be out living a bit. When I think back now, 16 is quite young to leave home. But I’d been in boarding school for a few years, so I’d already found some sense of independence. And I was full of the enthusiasm and excitement and energy that you might imagine a 16-year-old Orlando would have. Because of my determination and desire to have a career as an actor, I didn’t stray too far into drugs and alcohol and the things that could potentially have derailed me. I managed to keep a steady eye on the horizon, as they say, because I knew I wanted to fulfil a dream. I also found a Buddhist practice when I was 16. I’d been confirmed in Canterbury by the Archbishop of Canterbury, which was a pretty big deal. But when I moved to London I didn’t have a church, and didn’t look for a church. But in the course of a sculpture class I was taking at college I met this artist, and when I was drawing he’d be chanting in the other room. He taught me how to chant, to get down on my knees, think about what to say...that was the beginning of what is a religious practice of course, but I think of it more as a philosophy. It’s been a part of my life ever since, and it’s really helped me. If you met the 16-year-old me you’d see someone gregarious, with joie de vivre – a happy go lucky, up for a bit of fun and up for a bit of

TOP: AS LEGOLAS IN THE LORD OF THE RINGS MIDDLE: WITH FIANCÉE KATY PERRY, IN 2019 BOTTOM: WITH HIS PAL MIGHTY, IN 2020

07 MAY 2021

personally; I felt very attacked. But I had my Buddhist practice which definitely anchored me. I see a lot of dead bodies around me, a lot of careers that are just over so quickly. I give myself props just for even sitting here talking to you today. It’s been more than 20 years and I’m still here. I give myself even more credit for being excited about the next chapter, because I feel I had this huge opening in my twenties and now I’ve got this chapter which could be even more exciting because of the lessons learned. I was never malicious, I wasn’t trying to take or hurt anyone, I was just trying to live my life. But that degree of fame... I don’t have many people I can talk to about that. This is gonna sound crazy, but if I could have one more last time with anyone... I lost my dog Mighty last year. A dog my fiancée [Katy Perry, who gave birth to their daughter last August] gave me. And that dog was not just a dog, that tiny dog taught me about the way that beings who live and breathe relate to each other. He just wandered off and he never came back – it turned out a coyote took him. I found him after seven days of searching… I found parts of him anyway. It was so painful, it just changed my whole… Does that sound crazy? It really affected me in a profound way. That dog taught me so much about love and loyalty and relationships. I’d had him for four years and he was never away from me, literally never out of my sight. He was just the best. But I didn’t understand the depth and the pain I might feel at his loss until he was gone. I got his name tattooed on my chest afterwards. It sounds funny but l would love to just kiss him one more time and say I love you. If I could go back and live any time in my life again, it would be the three months working and living in New Zealand leading up to production [on the Lord of the Rings trilogy]. The feeling of excitement, the anticipation of what we were about to step into, the opportunities it might bring, the people I was meeting, the friendships which were forming. I was not famous; I could go about my life and nobody would stop me for an autograph or a photo. But I felt secure on this path I was on. I’d gone from saving up to buy an outfit for the weekend to suddenly having a house and a car, and an electric garage. I remember pressing the button to open the garage door, and I was like, wow, this is the coolest thing in the world. I mean, if people knew what I got paid on Lord of the Rings their jaws would drop because it wasn’t a big money gig. I mean, for me it was a huge amount of money, but people think, oh, millions. No. But it was never about that – it’s never been about that for me. It’s been about the experiences, and that feeling, at that time…whew, you can’t really beat that. It was just electric.

PHOTOS BY GETTY AND MOVIESTILLSDB.COM. TEXT COURTESY THE BIG ISSUE UK

trouble kind of person. I was really up for it. I was a bit of a clubbing kid to be honest, and there were some amazing clubs going on in London then. I was part of a great mix of people and we had great fun. I had friends who worked in the post office, and they’d save their money to buy an outfit to wear that Saturday night. I had these silver tops, and John Richmond shoes. It was sort of like my idea of what Studio 54 might have been. London was really having a renaissance then, in the mid-90s. I remember Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis walking through one of those clubs one time, and there was Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell and Linda Evangelista...it was a real scene. It was almost like going to Notting Hill Carnival every weekend, and there was so much love put into it. If you’d told the 16-year-old me that one day he’d be in a film of Lord of the Rings, he just wouldn’t believe you. I remember when my agent first told me I’d got that part [as Legolas in 2001] – oh my god, my mind was blown. I called her every day for about a week, checking that it was definitely right; I was like, is it still me, is it still me? The 16-year-old me wouldn’t have believed it, but at the same time, I had such a desire to work in film, some part of me might have gone, ah yeah, that sounds like the path I want to tread. It wasn’t until I was about 16 and at drama school that I felt like I got a real education. I had struggled with dyslexia at school and I just didn’t find a method of learning. I weirdly had quite a high IQ, but I couldn’t find a way of educating myself. I’ve subsequently learned many different ways to get things done. I’d tell the younger me to learn a language. I’d say, learn a language man, it’s a passport to the planet. And then I would say, you know... I was sort of very gregarious, and loving, and I definitely had girlfriends and girls who were friends. And that was always really beautiful. I had a couple of big relationships between the age of 16 and 20 that taught me a lot. I wouldn’t change anything about that time really. In terms of preparing my younger self for fame, I would honestly just say you can’t take that stuff seriously. And you can’t let it stop you living your life. There was a window when I was in my twenties, when we didn’t have Facebook or Instagram or anything, but there was still so much heat and attention on me [usually focused on his relationships with famous women, including supermodel Miranda Kerr, to whom he was married for three years]. I got really good at hiding myself because I was really, painfully, trying to live, without being just looked at the whole time. I would say to my young self, just appreciate it and enjoy it, and know today’s newspaper is tomorrow’s fish and chip paper, especially with those kind of [celebrity] magazines. And don’t take it personally. Because I’m very sensitive, actually, so a lot of things I took really

Ricky

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In the space of two days Tasmania flicked the switch from summer to winter.

by Ricky French @frenchricky

Under Seasoned

ne of Australia’s most beautiful natural phenomena occurs each autumn in Tasmania, when our only native deciduous cold-climate trees, Nothofagus gunnii, or simply “fagus”, drop their leaves. People flock to places like Cradle Mountain and Mount Field to witness the “turning of the fagus”. Even the most hardened anti-greenie timber-chopping backwoodsmen allow their hearts to soften at the sight of these stunning beech trees throwing off their summer coats in preparation for a frigid Tasmanian winter. Me, I’ve never seen the fagus turn. Never even been to Cradle Mountain nor Mount Field. But I’ve just got back from an autumn trip to Tasmania, which had everything except autumn. I arrived to something I wasn’t expecting: weather-related wedding-outfit chaos. Our friends were getting married, and the guests were overheating. It was the hottest April day since the time of the dinosaurs and there was a flurry of dress-substitutions and a constant search for air conditioning. The days that followed were a sunny blur of swimming in the clear sea, eating oysters under a blazing blue sky and soaking up an unseasonal burst of summer heat. We took the ferry to Bruny Island and hiked up Fluted Cape, a towering stack of dolerite columns on the eastern edge of the island, with views across the shimmering sea to the Tasman Peninsula. The far-off land looked pretty good from where we were, so the next day we took the long way round and went to the Tasman Peninsula by land, driving to Port Arthur and checking into the Port Arthur Motor Inn, clean and reasonably priced, with access to the manicured grounds of the former penitentiary. It’s such a lovely spot to wander, and so hard to reconcile it with the horrors that played out here, first back in its prison days in the mid-1800s and then in 1996, when Australia’s worst mass-shooting took place in

the Broad Arrow Cafe. Today only the shell of the cafe remains, as a poignant memorial to the dead, shielded respectfully behind a hedgerow. You could walk past and never know what happened here, and many people do, ironically on their way to the wharf to board a boat for a tour of Isle of the Dead. The island is the final resting place of around 1000 prisoners, one of whom was (so the headstone inscription reads) Australia’s first novelist, Henry Savery. Poor old Henry took fiction a step too far: he was tried for fraud, sentenced to death, transported, released, jailed again and sent to Port Arthur in 1840, where he died two years later. His fate is to spend the rest of eternity greeting the hordes of tourists. The next thing to depart was summer. Daylight savings packed up its bags, and darkness swallowed the landscape before dinnertime. We drove back to Hobart as a cold front approached. Snow was forecast, so we did what any sensible people would do and set off for a hike to meet it, climbing the flanks of Mount Wellington (also known as kunanyi), en route to a secret hut to spend our last night in. The cold started to bite as we climbed, and soon we were pushing through thick bush, clambering over fallen trees and scratching ourselves stupid in the undergrowth. Summer had been replaced by winter before the fagus could turn. My hands and legs were bright red with cold – I was the fagus! We found the hut as the first flakes of snow hit the ground and soon had the fire roaring, sending smoke signals up the chimney and over the city, blazing down through gaps in the trees. We woke to a world of white, snow falling in thick flakes. In the space of two days Tasmania flicked the switch from summer to winter. No need for autumn, and no desire to ever leave.

Ricky is a writer and musician, who might not come back from Tassie.

by Fiona Scott-Norman @fscottnorman

PHOTOS BY JAMES BRAUND

f you’re anything like me – and chances are we have much in common, given you share 50 per cent of your genes with a banana – you’re no stranger to tossing and turning in the middle of the night. Not insomnia, necessarily, but the “I’m suddenly awake at 4am, and now seems a good time to catalogue my failings as a human”. The eighth continent, after all, isn’t the Iran-sized Pacific Ocean garbage island, but your to-do list; you’ve overtly failed to live to your potential, the world’s burning and your retirement years will be spent in penury. The issue isn’t what to fret about; the issue is where to start. I used to wake wide-eyed as a possum at any old time, but now my body has settled into a comfortable rhythm of “wake about 5am to pee, oh you want to grab a couple more hours of sleep, do you? Ahahaha, not so fast sunshine.” Luckily, I have a solution. Gather round fellow anxiety hounds, as I share my gold-standard, drug-free, guaranteed method of dropping the heck back to sleep when your mind is scrabbling at the door of your skull like a frantic rat. The trick is to distract your brain and give it a task. I once attended a talk at a yoga centre, and the speaker likened our minds to monkey servants that need to be given something to do, otherwise they’ll constantly pester us for instruction. In his parable, our monk protagonist told his monkey to climb to the top of a palm tree, then to the bottom, then to the top again, and so on. Only then was he free to enjoy an unharassed pina colada by the pool. Our brains are excellent servants, and terrible masters. Would you like a task? Yeah you would. This is mine, suggested by a friend and improvisator who I once introduced on stage as the superhero Solid Gold Dancer Woman, and who obliged by doing a cartwheel. She’s quality, is what I’m saying. When you want to sleep, challenge yourself to list six male (or female. You do you) names beginning with the letter “A”. Then six male

names beginning with the letter “B”. Then six male names beginning with – look, you can see where this is going. If you return to fretting, guide yourself back to the list. I’ve been doing this for a decade, and I rarely need more than two letters’ worth, but on bad nights I’ve made it to “M”. The next time I pick up where I vaguely remember leaving off. It’s enough of a challenge to keep your brain occupied, and finally left blissfully alone, your body drifts off to sleep in the background. It’s meditation combined with a sexual history/hot crush/family member whack-a-mole. Genius. Care for a guided tour? Alistair: Bless, no-one’s called Alistair anymore. The least popular boy at boarding school. Year above me; thick specs; awkward teeth; thin, red, side-parted hair; object of ridicule. Amygdala flashback to Valentine’s Day 1970-something, when his dorm sent him a Valentine card from me, and me a Valentine card from him, and then sniggeringly brought us together. We stared damply at each other, dismayed and humiliated, knowing we’d been duped, and just how unliked we must have been to be paired up. Ugh. Andrew: Alistair’s younger brother. Spunk. Blond, slim, athletic and heavingly in demand. Poor Alistair. Arthur: Dad’s name. Aww. Vale Dad. No‑one’s called Arthur these days either. Alfred: Do I only know old-man names? Albert: FFS. Wait, at least it’s the name of a penis piercing. Hehehe. Penis. Aristotle: So dead. Wait, was that his first or last name? Does it count? Did they have one-name people then? Like Beyoncé? Was it his stage name? There was Aristotle Onassis, though, right? Okay, allowed. Onto “B”. Yay! Zzzz. You’re welcome.

Fiona is a writer and comedian who counts more than just sheep.

07 MAY 2021

A is for Alistair

I’m suddenly awake at 4am, and now seems a good time to catalogue my failings as a human.

Fiona

Judith Lucy is back with a new memoir, a new outlook and a new vibrator. Turns out, she’s fine. by Mandy Beaumont @mandybeaumont

Mandy Beaumont is an award-winning writer and academic. Her short story collection, Wild, Fearless Chests, is out now, and her debut novel The Furies is due for release in 2022.

peaking with Judith Lucy feels like chatting with an old friend over a wine. One of Australia’s most popular stand-up comedians, Lucy also created and hosted Judith Lucy’s Spiritual Journey and Judith Lucy Is All Woman on the ABC, and appeared in the classic Australian movie Crackerjack. She’s the author of the bestselling memoirs The Lucy Family Alphabet – about life with her Irish-born parents and not knowing she was adopted until age 25 – and Drink, Smoke, Pass Out – which sees her trying to find out if there’s more to life, exploring spirituality and her relationship with alcohol and men. When asked about writing her memoirs, Lucy says with her trademark dry humour: “Of course I’m a writer, but I think of myself as a comedian before I think of myself as a writer. And especially when I wrote the first book – I was really tying myself up in knots. I mean who am I, Tim Winton? No.” Lucy’s new memoir, Turns Out, I’m Fine: How Not to Fall Apart is both funny and honest, and a continuation from her previous books, in which she tries to work out – now at 53 years of age – what has gone wrong in her life. When asked about why she wrote the book, Lucy is insightful: “I figured that in trying to work some of this stuff out, I might help a few other humans along the way.” And she does this well, through a comedic and feminist lens, with compassion, care and deep reflection. “You kind of wait for that shit to sort itself out, and then eventually realise, oh no, I’ve got

TURNS OUT, I’M FINE: HOW NOT TO FALL APART BY JUDITH LUCY IS OUT NOW.

PHOTO BY SHANNON MORRIS

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

Books

Judith Lucy

Positive Vibes

to do it, and no-one else is going to do it for you.” It’s a powerful and multi-layered approach to exploring some taxing and grief-laden life events. In Turns Out, I’m Fine, Lucy’s career is a mess, she’s menopausal and she’s the only one left in her immediate family still alive after the recent death of her brother Niall. The world around her is going to shit. But she has a man, and the fairytale that she and so many other women have been taught is that if she’s got a man, everything is going to be okay. But then, in the space of 24 hours, her relationship falls apart and so does she. Lucy’s heartbreak leads her to an existential meltdown. She takes the reader back to her childhood to try and make sense of her adult self, reassesses her career in the male-dominated industry of comedy, and her failed romantic relationships with some very toxic men. She also explores the important relationships she has with female friends and gay men. Lucy’s voice is vivid on the page, and that’s due in part to a conversation she had with her friend, author Kaz Cooke, who told her just write like you talk. “It was so basic,” Lucy says, “and I was like, ‘Oh, that’s the secret to writing well.’” Lucy is also vulnerable, with a series of candid revelations in her attempt to make sense of her history and to ultimately find happiness. “I’ve always tried to be really honest with my work, but there’s always been a little bit of a line of defence there. I deliberately wanted to get rid of that line for this book. I wanted to write the most honest thing that I could.” Lucy starts to let go of her past and realises that there is much more to a happy life than finding Mr Right – that her life is full of possibilities despite death, heartache and thinking that her career is going to shit. She embraces being kinder to herself, developing deeper connections to community and focusing on her health. She also commits to doubling down on her comedy career and to embracing ageing. She starts exploring her sexuality again. Lucy feels like writing the book has helped her open up the possibilities for the future: “I’m genuinely excited about the next part of my life, because I feel that I have processed a lot of stuff. I feel like I’ve come out the other side.” She’s about to take a three-month break, something she’s never done in her 33-year career: “I’m actually going to take my own advice and do a bit of the self‑care, see what my life looks like without so much work or stress, or a man.” When asked what advice she would give to young women, Lucy is quick to respond: “Give up. Just don’t look for Mr Right. Put all your energy into you living an absolutely fantastic life with your friends. Follow your passion, and for the love of God, get yourself a decent vibrator.” She laughs deeply. It’s infectious and powerful.

07 MAY 2021

Give up. Just don’t look for Mr Right. Put all your energy into you living an absolutely fantastic life with your friends.

@excbr

Angus McGrath is a Sydney-based writer and artist, who also makes music as California Girls.

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

Music

Iceage

New Age A They call Danish band Iceage punks – the violins, horns and gospel choir say otherwise. Frontman Elias Bender Rønnenfelt explains.

dinner party is raging behind the door of Elias Bender Rønnenfelt’s Copenhagen bedroom when we speak. We’re discussing defying expectations, and how his band Iceage have been pigeonholed as punk. “Our musical interests have always laid in a broad spectrum of places,” he tells me. “I feel like a lot of people are lost in finding where the soul actually lies in things, but also, I think boundaries should be destroyed.” While courteous, his reflections on punk are appropriately antagonistic. “The so-called ‘indie media’ labelled

us as some sort of saviours of punk, but we found contemporary punk culture dull in most places,” he says. “We didn’t wanna be saviours of nothing, and we didn’t want anything to do with punk. At the same time, we hated the indie world too; we thought it was drab and boring and there wasn’t much to find there. We came from punk, but we were trying to break away from it at the same time as breaking with everything else.” Their debut album New Brigade (2011) saw the band quickly ascend from their tight-knit Danish scene to international acclaim, and earned them a reputation for jagged, urgent “punk”. Almost immediately, however, they challenged this assumption, transforming to balladeering country on their third album Plowing Into the Field of Love (2014) and dirty blues on their fourth, Beyondless (2018). Their fifth and latest, Seek Shelter, sees the band transforming once again, this time to the most laid-back they’ve ever been. As a scuzzy, carefree guitar kicks in over hazy violins on opener ‘Shelter Song’, it resembles (as much as they’d hate it) a gruff Oasis

PHOTO BY MISHAEL PHILLIP

by Angus McGrath

or (hopefully more acceptable), an apathetic Primal Scream. Appearing on two tracks, the Lisboa Gospel Collective helped create this new sound, a collaboration which Rønnenfelt says was organic. “We never thought about having a gospel choir on a song before, but as the album was shaping out, we’d noticed this space. You start hearing voices that you can’t do yourself, and the idea of gospel came in. We were trying the whole time through recording to find a choir and it happened at the last second. They came in, did all that we wanted them to do and so much more.” The choir is just one component of Seek Shelter, an album replete with heralding horns, lavish strings and a libertine, rock’n’roll groove. The band’s sharp edges are still present, but notably softer. There’s cohesion, even across a breadth of songs like the jazz-bar heartbreak of ‘Love Kills Slowly’ or the debauched, Happy Mondays-esque ‘Vendetta’. Recording in a vintage studio in Portugal, the band found the perfect space to realise their vision. “The

studio was quite rugged and seemed kind of haunted itself. It had a lot of atmosphere and that’s why we sought it out.” Their sessions were interrupted by heavy rain, leaving them playing surrounded by buckets to catch leaks from the roof, but this chaos was exactly what they’d hoped for. “We never look for an institutional, clean-cut, state-ofthe-art studio. We want somewhere that has space for mistakes, or for the initial plan to fail and then you have to figure out what else your options are.” This “haunted” studio also seems an ideal complement to Rønnenfelt’s evocative, apocalyptic lyrics and callous, Casanova stage persona. Amid his theatrics, however, it can be difficult to determine what’s real, where the line is between reality and fiction. “The line is much closer to reality than people think – sometimes the truth is much more fantastical than people would like it to be,” he says. “I think in my line of music, people are trying to be a bit smart and a bit modest and a bit relatable and you don’t have to be. A lot of elements in what we do play on extremes, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real, it doesn’t

E L IA S B ENDE D IN N E R PA R T Y,R R Ø N N E N F E LT B U T M IN D T H E L IK E S A GLASSE S

mean it’s not valid, it doesn’t mean that you can’t portray a defiant reptile idiot which is still true. There can also be an element of doubleness in there, or a sense of humour. For us, these things are very much blurred, and I don’t even know where the line is between fiction and reality. Well, sometimes I know it better than others. There’s an element of insanity in there and I’d like there to be.” At its core, Seek Shelter is testament to the band’s unrelenting and unforgiving vision – even as Rønnenfelt sweetly apologises for accidentally smashing a wine glass during our interview. For longtime fans of the band, Iceage have never really been about punk music, but a constant rejection of rules. As my conversation with Rønnenfelt comes to an end – he still seated in a sea of glass shards, party still raging in the background – I want to know his thoughts on fashion and appearance. He makes a final, perfectly defiant point: “Presentation is like a lot of things – something to think of, but it’s also something to disregard.” SEEK SHELTER IS OUT NOW.

Journalist and broadcaster Namila Benson trains her lens on a radically different – and more inclusive – art world. by Giselle Au-Nhien Nguyen

Giselle Au-Nhien Nguyen is a VietnameseAustralian writer based in Melbourne.

called my mum and asked, ‘Do we have a word in our language for the term art?’” says journalist and broadcaster Namila Benson. To her surprise, her mother replied, ‘‘What are you talking about? You’re talking about art, but you mean life.” It’s this reframing that Benson brings to Art Works, ABC TV’s new weekly program exploring the arts in Australia. As the show’s inaugural host, Benson wants to challenge our perceptions of what art is – and, more importantly, who gets to define and create it. “What intrigues me is how we collectively, as well as individually, put value on art, especially when you look at who is deemed as being historically ‘one of the greats’,” says Benson, who also hosts ABC Radio National’s The Art Show. “We want this show to be a place where stories, experiences, perspectives and ideas can be shared and exchanged, and you might want to engage or debate and critique what’s being presented.” Featuring in-studio segments, regular guests, interviews and behind‑the‑scenes stories, Art Works spans the usual – visual arts, literature, film – as well as more unusual forms of arts and culture. The show elevates voices that have not historically been centred in Australia, creating a safe space for these perspectives to be shared and valued. “I’m excited about bringing in folks from a community that I absolutely love who don’t usually get to hold the mic, but have more than got the chops,” Benson says.

“I want to clear and reset the table to invite everyone to have a seat, and I’ve put on different people within the team to ensure that, no matter who comes into the studio, they can comfortably sit with me and engage. If we expect that guests are going to willingly share their stories with us, the onus is on us to create a situation where they will feel welcome.” She mentions the recent controversy with Dark Mofo. The Tasmanian festival came under fire in March for commissioning an artwork that called for Indigenous people to donate blood, which would be used to soak a Union Jack flag. The public reaction, Benson says, signified a shift in the social consciousness. “That was really powerful to see the overwhelming response, because it was the indicator for everyone that it wasn’t just about

What you deem as marginalised is actually my normalised, so I want to shift that lens. who was at the table with those conversations, but who was not. “That’s what we really want to do with the show: critique the systems, structures and language, and how we frame particular approaches to art.” As Benson notes, the Western lens doesn’t always provide the most welcoming or neutral entry point. “What you deem as marginalised is actually my normalised, so I want to shift that lens,” she says. Coming from a Melanesian background, Benson has a unique view of and approach to the arts. “My culture

PHOTO BY NICK HARRISON

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

Small Screens

Art Works

Art Is Life

ART WORKS IS ON ABC TV PLUS AND IVIEW.

07 MAY 2021

doesn’t really conform to these Western ideas of art,” she explains. “Objects, body adornment, singing and dancing are embedded in ritual and costume and ceremony. It’s inseparable from daily life. I didn’t grow up with the arts, necessarily, but art was all around me.” This is significant for the show, as it ensures that Art Works is led by someone who comes at the subject matter from an inherently non-colonial angle. “Australian media is still very Sunrise‑ish,” she says. “I know people are going to say it’s not about race, but actually, it is. I’m constantly reminded that I’m an outsider in so many ways, but this is why my difference will make a difference within this space. “There’s a level of nuance and insight and experience that I will bring to conversations that other folks never even have to think about, in terms of how they navigate and move in the world, and I think that is a really important point of difference.” But Benson is also aware of her responsibility to pass the microphone to other marginalised groups, such as the disabled community. “I know where my place is, and there are some conversations which I don’t think it is my place to step into and discuss,” she says. “In the arts world, so often there are folks and communities that are spoken about, rather than with or to. I value learned knowledge, but lived knowledge is what I put a high premium on. I think that that’s an important thing as well – the cultural safety aspect.” Ultimately, Art Works resets the cultural conversation in Australia, inviting viewers to question their own understanding and appreciation of the arts, and recognise their unconscious biases. Benson says it’s about bringing creative and political threads together to determine who we are as a nation. “We want to stay tapped into what’s going on in the arts world, but also explore how it’s reflecting these huge global movements that are happening around the world at the moment, and Australia’s place within that.”

Film Reviews

Annabel Brady-Brown Film Editor @annnabelbb

eeing a movie with friends is better than watching one alone at home. You can talk about it and laugh together,” says a young man in Suhaib Gasmelbari’s bittersweet documentary Talking About Trees (2019). It’s a sentiment we’ve come to appreciate over the course of the pandemic. But there’s an extra layer of poignancy to these words here, because this resident from a village near Khartoum has never had the chance to see a movie on the big screen. After the military coup of 1989, restrictions effectively wiped out the Sudanese film industry – a tragedy for those who live and breathe cinema, such as the four charismatic older men at the heart of this documentary: Ibrahim Shaddad, Suleiman Ibrahim, Altayeb Mahdi and Manar Al-Hilo. They may have each been forced to retire from filmmaking, but they haven’t given up the dream just yet. The friends hope to reopen a crumbling, grand outdoor cinema and show free movies – the people’s first pick is Django, Unchained (2012). Talking About Trees follows their attempts to get permission from the authorities, and highlights their resilience, passion and good humour. We watch as they laugh among themselves, re-enacting iconic scenes from Hollywood movies and projecting Charlie Chaplin films to delighted crowds, on a screen that threatens to blow away in the wind. Talking About Trees screens free 12 May at the Art Gallery of New South Wales, or is available to rent online. ABB

THE PICTURES TELL A THOUSAND WORDS

MORTAL KOMBAT 

Burying the mild-mannered schlock of its 90s predecessors, the latest live-action adaptation of the classic arcade fighter game restores the series to its R-rated roots. We follow cage-fighter Cole Young (Lewis Tan) in his self-actualising search for Earth’s greatest fighting champions through a series of encounters with various monsters, robots and ninjas. At his side, Aussie funnyman Josh Lawson animates the hardboiled, larrikin loudmouth Kano, who adds necessary zest but threatens to quip you to an early death. Cole’s MMA background seems to inform the film’s fighting style, which is neither physically nor technically impressive. It’s all hastily edited kicks and punches, propelled with little kinetic force. The franchise’s calling card – its excessive, gleeful, inventive violence – feels sanitised. There’s more swear words than severed limbs! The result is a high-definition remaster sans campy charm. Its fatal blow: being too proud to use the series’ iconic techno theme anywhere but in the credits. SAMUEL HARRIS THE PERFECT CANDIDATE

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Maryam (Mila al-Zahrani), a young Saudi doctor, is introduced driving to work alone – a right that was granted to women just three years earlier. In almost every shot, she is in motion. Despite Maryam’s confidence, director Haifaa Al-Mansour (who directed 2012’s Wadjda, the first feature ever helmed by a Saudi woman) subtly expresses the patriarchal restraints placed on her heroine, through day-to-day frustrations. Maryam can’t travel without permission from her father. Some male patients refuse to be treated by a woman, even as they bleed out. Quite by accident, Maryam ends up running for local government – bringing scrutiny onto her family, but also a frisson of excitement within her community. Al-Mansour is careful to resist homogenous views of Saudi women: the broad range of female characters express contrasting and often conflicting feelings towards Maryam’s goals. A tentative optimism exists at the film’s heart; Maryam’s unflagging nature, and her family’s love for her, makes this a propulsive, feel-good watch. CLAIRE CAO

EMA 

Our peroxide blonde heroine Ema (newcomer Mariana Di Girólamo) and her husband Gastón (Gael García Bernal) struggle with feelings of guilt and self-loathing induced by their decision to give back adopted son Polo. As the young couple’s relationship continues to disintegrate, the film jumps between acidic interpersonal drama and a barrage of sensuous dance sequences (both work for a contemporary dance troupe). Chilean director Pablo Larraín (Jackie, 2016) attempts to contrast the jagged relations of the film’s central “family” with something more fluid and elemental, energised by an electronic score from Nicolás Jaar. The idea may work on a conceptual level, but it doesn’t feel particularly impactful in execution, as the formal games obfuscate rather than clarify Larraín’s intent. At worst, the fiery spectacle imbues the film’s vaguely sketched narrative with an unearned self‑importance. What could have played as tantalising melodrama, instead reads as exhausting, obnoxious provocation. LUKE MCCARTHY

Small Screen Reviews

Aimee Knight Small Screens Editor @siraimeeknight

MYTHIC QUEST  | APPLE TV+

INTERGALACTIC

 | APPLE ARCADE, NINTENDO SWITCH, PLAYSTATION, XBOX, PC

 | STAN

You’ve been sent to Cozy Grove to do your Spirit Scout duty: shuffle the ghosts off the island and into the great beyond. Unfortunately, no-one seems to be moving on anywhere fast and oh, you’re stranded. Boasting a soft, illustrative visual style and populated by characters who sport some truly charming writing, Cozy Grove is a lovely addition to the important genre of wholesome games like Animal Crossing and Stardew Valley. It’s a sweet, quirky game that invites you to take a moment for yourself and, in doing so, rewards you by slowly revealing more of its world, characters and story. Almost akin to a daily practice in mindfulness, it’s best played gradually and in small sessions, during which you complete favours for your ghost friends, go fishing off the cliffs, care for the animals and spirits, decorate your campsite, grow plants and much more. While none of it breaks new ground for the genre, there’s a lot to do in Cozy Grove. There’s no rush though – that’s kind of the point. CAITLIN CRONIN

An ex-cop, a pirate, a scorned motherdaughter duo and a genocidal scientist with superpowers: the ragtag runaways of Intergalactic are diabolically delightful. Set in the 23rd century, the series could be affectionately described as a feminist smashing of Firefly with Prison Break. When promising cop Ash Harper (Savannah Steyn, Crawl) is framed for theft, she’s hauled onto a ship with half a dozen women bound for off-world prison – until the inmates commandeer the ship in search of Arcadia, a rumoured haven for criminals. Intergalactic is a junk-food smorgasbord of cult action and sci-fi staples with enough heartfelt twists to hold its own. What the series may lack in big‑budget graphics, it makes up for with a hearty cast of (mostly) women whose ensemble chemistry is a refreshing alternative to the more testosterone-fuelled genre pieces. Co-starring Natasha O’Keeffe (Peaky Blinders) and Parminder Nagra (Bend It Like Beckham), Intergalactic will be a surprising treat for space-criminal hijinks lovers everywhere. MERRYANA SALEM

omen are funny. It’s okay to be fat. Feminists don’t need to be nice. These three tenets are central to Lindy West’s memoir Shrill: Notes from a Loud Woman and its assured small-screen adaptation. Co‑conceived by West, along with Parks and Rec producer Alexandra Rushfield and series lead Aidy Bryant, Shrill is both a confident sitcom and an introspective vehicle for Saturday Night Live’s Bryant, who brings bountiful charm to her role as aspiring journo Annie. Over its two compact seasons to date, Shrill has been a terrific showcase for witty women on both sides of the camera. The rip-roaring supporting cast includes Lolly Adefope (Miracle Workers) and Patti Harrison (Search Party), plus a sombre performance from SNL’s 90s alum Julia Sweeney. She plays Annie’s well-meaning mum, a fretful soul who’s yet to cleanse herself of the patriarchal brainwashing her daughter strives to undo. The creative team also features shrewd directors like Portlandia’s Carrie Brownstein. My favourite episode so far is the season two instalment ‘WAHAM’, which sends Annie on assignment to a corporate conference where Women Are Having a Moment. It’s a searingly specific roast of the late capitalist “girlboss” trope, helmed by pop culture’s platonic ideal of the cool aunt, Natasha Lyonne (Russian Doll). Sadly, Shrill’s own moment will soon be over, as the final season has just landed on SBS on Demand. I’ll sure miss Annie’s brand of blooming chutzpah, but look forward to finding it elsewhere. This Way Up and Girls5eva, both streaming on Stan, are definite contenders. AK

07 MAY 2021

COZY GROVE

AIDY BRYANT RAINS SUPREME

The staff behind the world’s biggest (fictional) video game are back in the office. After an excellent first season, the pandemic forced the Mythic Quest team to work from home – cue a quarantine episode set entirely on a video call – and now they’ve returned for season two: elbow bump. To launch from a real issue facing businesses shows how well series co-creators Charlie Day, Megan Ganz and Rob McElhenney tap into workplace dynamics for this quirky comedy. The post-pandemic storyline is genuine as the team face the challenges of each “new normal” at work and in social settings, but it never overwhelms the plot. The first season thrived on the tug-of-war between the macho creative vision of Ian Grimm (McElhenney) and the technical prowess of Poppy Li (Charlotte Nicdao, Content). Now they’re leading the studio together as equals – and juggling more demands from their chaotic staff. As co-workers clash about art versus commerce, their male-dominated industry, and how their decisions impact gamer culture at large, this witty series continues to push all the right buttons. CAMERON WILLIAMS

Music Reviews

Isabella Trimboli Music Editor

VIVA LA ALAN VEGA

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

hat is it about the unreleased or “lost” album that holds so much intrigue? Is it a natural inclination towards the obscure, the unknown? Or is it the idea that we only have half the picture of an artist’s creative life, that there’s so much more out there that could provide us with a fuller, more complex understanding? Underneath Paisley Park – Prince’s home and studio, turned into a museum after his death – a vault allegedly housed more than 8000 unreleased songs from the star. Last year, Neil Young finally released Homegrown, an album he recorded after On the Beach, in 1974 and into 1975, which fits perfectly into his outstanding run of releases from the 70s. A recent addition to this canon is Alan Vega’s Mutator, released by Sacred Bones in April. The album was compiled after the artist’s death in 2016, when his collaborators were piecing together a trove of unreleased material into what they dubbed the “Vega Vault”. Vega first made waves as one half of the menacing, innovative group Suicide, who would inspire punk, post-punk, industrial music and no wave scenes, without fitting neatly into any of those categories. Their debut album – which saw the pair bury 50s rock hooks and doo-wop melodies under sinister synth loops and noise – still sounds like nothing else, and still has the capacity to shock and unnerve. Mutator was recorded across 1995 and 1996. It’s an album that contains those classic Vega textures: claustrophobic drums, icy synths and his incredible voice, which recalls a zombified Elvis Presley, combined with the cacophony found on the streets of New York City in the 90s. IT

@itrimboli

BROCKHAMPTON ROADRUNNER: NEW LIGHT, NEW MACHINE 

A self-styled “boyband”, Brockhampton experienced their commercial zenith with their bittersweet R&B hit ‘Sugar’ (2019). But now the group is breaking up, announcing Roadrunner: New Light, New Machine as the first of two farewell albums. Back in 2018, Brockhampton presented a much-hyped major label debut, Iridescence, characterised by its experimental verve. Post-‘Sugar’, Roadrunner was expected to be fully pop, but it’s anchored in hip-hop – the cut ‘Windows’ delivers classic G-funk while diverging into reggae, psychedelia and gospel. Though feature-heavy, Roadrunner is unusually restrained. Brockhampton still balance the emo and euphoric, yet Roadrunner feels serious – ‘Buzzcut’ (with Detroit rap maverick Danny Brown) is the only obvious banger. They astutely address America’s structural racism in the Wu-Tang Clan-sampling ‘Chain On’, and band member Joba pens a guitar-fuelled lament to his father, who died by suicide, in ‘The Light’. With illumination as the album’s main theme, along with tenuous hope, Brockhampton may have transcended the boyband descriptor by simply growing up. CYCLONE WEHNER

WEEZER VAN WEEZER

TOO BIRDS MELBOURNE 2

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A methodical, mechanistic pop songwriter if there ever was one, Rivers Cuomo’s musical vision is one that reads as uniquely derivative: a mishmash of trite clichés performed with such childlike earnestness that, at times, they can begin to genuinely resemble sentiment. Is he being genuine? Probably, and if it sometimes seems hard to tell, it’s because at this stage in Weezer’s career that question seems somewhat beside the point. The music of late Weezer is most pleasurable when viewed as an act of pure craft, a power-pop patchwork of fine-tuned melody and composition that does away with any pretence of (or need for) authenticity. On this count, Van Weezer mostly delivers, the opening half in particular threaded with a barrage of unpretentious (to some ears, shameless) earworms that remain effective in spite of their complete lack of tact. Put simply: the extent to which you will enjoy this record is entirely dependent on how willingly you would listen to an album titled Van Weezer. LUKE MCCARTHY

Following a long break after their mixtape Where My Jacket (2016) and debut album I’m Going to Die (2017), Too Birds’ new album Melbourne 2 has a force that demands attention. On the track ‘God’s Pharmacy’, their unrelenting approach is inarguable – with vocalist Realname going in over a disorienting alarm, his snarky yelp-rap contrasting with bandmate Teether, whose effortless hook is all low pitch and smoky detachment. The frenetic, digital beats match the sardonic lyrics, detailing the depressing banality and callousness of city life. While never losing a woozy sense of groove, Too Birds often resemble a hardcore band. The album is glued together by piercing feedback, aided by guest feature Diploid. However, Mr Society’s production – which helps sculpt hip‑hop rhythms out of heavy brutality – ensures the band’s tenacious sound transcends simple genre categories. Melbourne 2 isn’t music that should be played loud, it is loud. At any volume the intensity might just blow up your speakers. ANGUS MCGRATH

Book Reviews

Thuy On Books Editor @thuy_on

THE GAPS LEANNE HALL

WHISPER SONGS TONY BIRCH

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Seven years in the making, The Gaps is an impressive Young Adult novel about the abduction of 16-year-old Yin Mitchell. Told from the perspective of two of Yin’s classmates in the wake of her disappearance, this book is an exploration of violence against women as it relates to teenage life. Refreshingly, the story doesn’t rely on gore or brutalisation for its impact; instead, it simply bears witness to the girls’ pain, fear and anger as they try to understand and process what’s happened. It feels like a book that is written for women and girls, instead of just about them. While a work of fiction, The Gaps draws on real-life events from the past 30 years to create characters, emotions and situations that feel eerily real. Even more impressive is how Hall sustains a bubbling undercurrent of tension on every page, even as the girls do the most ordinary teenage things like go to school or hang out with their friends. Overall, The Gaps is an incredibly compelling and moving look at the ways we process trauma, heal from pain, and live with fear. SARAH MOHAMMED

Although best known for his award-winning novels and short stories, Tony Birch is also a talented poet. Whisper Songs is his second collection of poetry, and explores themes that have long preoccupied the author. Divided into three sections – ‘Blood’, ‘Skin’ and ‘Water’ – the book, as its editor Anne-Marie Te Whiu says, is a “constellation of memories”. It begins with recollections of family and belonging. This section is a loving tribute to blood links, with gorgeous poems to those both present and absent, kin younger and older than Birch. ‘Skin’ takes a wider, more expansive and historical view of racial prejudice and violence, while ‘Water’ explores Birch’s relationship to Country. As with his other work, Birch’s lyricism and compassion flow through this book, but the power of poetry is that it’s a form of art that condenses and distils so there’s ever more potency in these small, precious offerings. THUY ON

LOVE OBJECTS EMILY MAGUIRE 

Love Objects is the sixth novel from Emily Maguire, author of the Stella Prize-shortlisted An Isolated Incident. In this book, Nic, a 45-year-old woman, lives alone in the family home where her niece Lena once stayed sometimes, as if she were her own child. Now, with Lena off at university, the home overflows with ephemera and loved objects that hold a lifetime of memories for Nic. When Nic misses a regular lunch with Lena, her niece arrives at the home and is shocked to find her lying unconscious among the rising rubble of objects. What unravels is a lifetime of memories, bringing both women together and also threatening to tear them apart. Love Objects is a considered and moving novel, with characters that are deeply affecting. Crafted with Maguire’s precision and captivating writing style, it explores the lived experiences of the class system in Australia, widespread misogyny and betrayal in the digital age, and the complexity of family ties. MANDY BEAUMONT

WN S: THRO W IL LO W H E W IN D T O T

07 MAY 2021

ave you ever submitted a story for a competition or a book to a publisher and been rejected? Take heart, it happens to the best of us. There are many famous writers who’ve felt the sting of failure before achievement. Stephen King was rejected 30 times before Carrie was finally published, thereby launching his career. Similarly, Audrey Niffenegger was turned down 25 times for The Time Traveller’s Wife before a small publisher took a punt on it. Both these books were eventually translated into films, which buoyed their success even further. Bestselling science fiction title Dune, by Frank Herbert, clocked up double‑digit rejections too, while William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, that school curriculum favourite, suffered the ignominy of 21 naysayers. Meanwhile, in more recent times, the 2016 Booker-winning The Sellout, by Paul Beatty, faced 18 rejections. So before you get too disheartened that no-one has recognised your work of staggering genius, remember how resilient these authors have been in the face of continual knockbacks. Agents, publishers (and even critics!) don’t always get it right. Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows apparently received this charming note: “An irresponsible holiday story that will never sell.” Had Grahame given up, there would be no Mole, Rat, Toad nor Badger! TO

Public Service Announcement

by Lorin Clarke @lorinimus

Despite wall-to-wall advertising tempting us to think this is not the case, you can actually eat what you like. You can spend your money any way you like too. Doesn’t matter if you have two dollars or two hundred dollars, nobody gets to tell you that you can’t spend it on chocolate or a trashy magazine or a Barbie doll with a cowboy hat or whatever. Totally up to you. You can think things and dream things and hope things that you might think other people would judge you for – and you don’t even have to tell them. You can go barefoot a lot more often than you think you can. You can call someone out for their bad behaviour. Watching a person calmly upturn the power dynamics in an unequal situation by supporting an underdog or challenging a bully is truly a wonder to behold. In terms of a test of character, I’m not sure there’s a better one than meeting whatever comes your way with a strong

sense of what’s right. The kid at my school for instance, who came on stage to help his mate through some lines when he was struggling with stage fright, while the adults in the audience giggled. The woman I used to know, who quietly turned to her boss and told him that he was rude to the receptionist. When he was outraged to be accused of something so heinous, she said it didn’t matter if he thought he was being rude or not: she thought he was being rude. He looked at her. She looked at him. He went and apologised. Not always the result, but standing up for somebody who is doing nothing wrong is rarely a bad idea. You can do things adults avoid – like singing in public or cartwheeling across a public oval. There are no rules about what you listen to, turned up loud or quietly in the background. It doesn’t matter if everyone else likes Nordic noir, you’re allowed to like rom-coms or reality TV or binge a bunch of episodes of Gogglebox like I did once until I looked up and it was after midnight and I had laughed and cried and fallen in love with about seven different families. You’re allowed to read science fiction books or lose yourself in a time-travel romance, and nobody else rolling their eyes at you actually matters. Also, they are missing out on the time-travel romance. You’re allowed to procrastinate. You’re allowed time to yourself to just stare out the window or accidentally go down an internet wormhole reading about train robberies or magic tricks or what Janeane Garofalo is up to these days. You can make changes too. You can become a person who knits, or plays an instrument, or does less housework or joins the circus. Just because something has always been the case doesn’t mean it has to continue. You don’t have to be different all the time (that wouldn’t be different, after all) but different is always there as an option, and unless you’re breaking one of the shalt nots, you’d be surprised how many people don’t even bat an eyelid.

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

omeone I know was talking about a longdeparted loved one the other day and he paused and said, “She just lived differently, you know?” I didn’t know, so I asked. What does that mean? He said she bought clothing with over-the-top patterns on it because she felt people should be encouraged to wear bold and exciting prints, so she bought bold and exciting prints. Not because she thought she personally was bold and exciting, but because she wanted to drive up the demand for those prints. She wanted all the executives in the clothing companies to think: Huh, how about that? Those luminous frangipani pants are selling and then order a whole lot more so that, throughout the land, people felt emboldened to be their best selves. Being somebody who does things differently can be difficult. Other people often find it confronting. I bet people said things to the frangipani-pants woman like “Why are you wearing those?” and “Why did you do that to your curtains? Hahaha.” People are so often in the business of asserting essentially meaningless social rules all over each other, it really is quite exhausting. Public Service Announcement: you can do things differently. Apart from a few thou-shalt-nots, there really aren’t too many rules about how you live your life.

07 MAY 2021

Just Do It – Differently

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

Tastes Like Home edited by Anastasia Safioleas

FOOD PHOTO BY THOMAS DAVIDSON, PORTRAIT BY TAJE SINGH

Tastes Like Home Brendan Pang

Grandmère’s Pork Wonton Soup Ingredients Serves 4

2 tablespoons vegetable oil 1kg pork chuck bones 40g ginger, sliced 6 cups of cold water 1 teaspoon dried shrimp, rinsed Salt, to taste

300g pork mince 1 tablespoon thinly sliced spring onion 1½ teaspoons finely diced ginger 1 tablespoon oyster sauce 1 teaspoon Shaoxing wine 1 teaspoon light soy sauce ¼ teaspoon sesame oil

Method To make the pork bone broth, heat oil in a large pot over high heat. Add the pork bones and half of the sliced ginger to brown. Stir and cook for about 6 minutes. Add water, remaining sliced ginger and dried shrimp. Bring to a boil then reduce to low and skim any impurities that rise to the surface. Leave to simmer for 3-4 hours. Taste and season with salt. For the wonton filling, place all ingredients into a medium bowl and mix vigorously in one direction until the mixture binds. Cover and leave to rest in the fridge for 30 minutes. To assemble, place 1 wonton wrapper on a clean surface. Place 1 heaped teaspoon of the mixture in the centre. Brush half of the edges of the square with water. Fold the wet edges over (in half) to make a rectangular shape and enclose the filling. Brush one of the corners with water and fold inward to overlap with the other corner. Press to seal. Repeat using remaining wrappers and pork mixture. Set aside covered with a damp tea towel until required. Cook wontons in boiling water until cooked through, about 4-6 minutes. Remove from water using a slotted spoon and divide among serving bowls. If you are using noodles, cook in boiling water for about 3-5 minutes until done, drain and divide among serving bowls. Cook bok choy in boiling water until just cooked, about 2 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon and divide among serving bowls. Ladle the pork bone broth over the wontons, noodles and bok choy, and top with spring onion. Serve immediately.

Brendan says…

rowing up, Grandmère’s go‑to dish for our huge Chinese-Mauritian family was her wonton soup. It played a critical role in satisfying our bellies at almost every family occasion – and on a normal weeknight, too. My variation on this hawker delight uses pork mince in the wontons instead of the typical pork and prawn combo – just how Grandmère taught us as kids around her dining table. So it goes without saying, I carry this recipe with me proudly everywhere I go. I mean who doesn’t love a hot bowl of soup with delicious dumplings? It is warming for the soul and as simple as it is, every mouthful reminds me of home. If you’ve had this dish before at a Chinese restaurant, you may have enjoyed it served with egg noodles and some leafy greens, and that’s exactly how we serve it in my family too. It is simple, tasty and what really makes this recipe a winner is how easy the wontons are to make, so it’s probably a good one for beginners when it comes to the world of dumplings. Lastly, and most importantly, this dish is best shared with those around you. The memories I have made over this humble bowl of goodness have been some of the fondest, and I guarantee as you share this with others, yours will be just as special too. THIS IS A BOOK ABOUT DUMPLINGS BY BRENDAN PANG IS OUT NOW.

07 MAY 2021

Pork bone broth

Wontons

24 wonton wrappers Spring onion, sliced, to serve A bunch of bok choy, trimmed 200g egg noodles

Puzzles

ANSWERS PAGE 45.

By Lingo! by Lauren Gawne lingthusiasm.com SHIRT

CLUES

O Y

R N

Sudoku

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

2 5 1

5 letters Heavenly spirit Of the monarchy On your own Visitor from space With time to spare 6 letters Aplenty, abundant Easygoing Fisherman Practically Stay protractedly 7 letters Furiously Put straight again 8 letters By district Young horse

by websudoku.com

3 4

7 4 3

7 1 6

5 4

9 4

2 9 8

5 8

5 7 1

Puzzle by websudoku.com

Solutions CROSSWORD PAGE 45 ACROSS 1 Shanty 4 Off-brand 10 Hot potato 11 Scion

12 Dame 13 Worthwhile 15 Letters 16 Rascal 19 On edge 21 Iced tea 23 Conference 25 Slug 27 Divot 28 Insolvent 29 Currency 30 Lawyer

DOWN 1 Schedule 2 Automaton 3 Troy 5 Floater 6 Best wishes 7 Alibi 8 Daniel 9 Manors 14 Dead centre 17 Artillery 18 Daughter 20 Elegiac 21 In case 22 Acidic 24 Never 26 Plea

20 QUESTIONS PAGE 9 1 Cornelius 2 Western Bulldogs 3 Dorothy Dandridge in 1955 4 1973 5 Crocus sativus 6 Gerry and the Pacemakers 7 Bowen, Queensland 8 The Sandwich Islands 9 Twelfth Night 10 New Zealand 11 Eardrum 12 Cynthia Powell Lennon 13 True 14 Four 15 Rhys Nicholson 16 Cheese 17 Former First Lady of France 18 Harry Styles – ‘Watermelon Sugar’ 19 The Amityville Horror 20 Mrs Hudson

07 MAY 2021

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

Word Builder

A shirt was originally a short tunic-like garment, worn regardless of gender. Shirt and short are actually related words, coming from an older Germanic word skurto “short”. The oldest form of the word for this kind of garment in English was scyrte, which was pronounced more like our word for skirt is today. At some point the “sk” sound became more of an “sh” in English more generally, including short, and shabby, which is related to scabby. Along with the change to shirt, the garment became something specifically for men. In the early 1300s English borrowed in the related Old Norse word skyrta for the lower-body garment worn by women. The first known reference to the skirt/shorts hybrid skort is in 1957.

by Chris Black

Quick Clues

THE ANSWERS FOR THE CRYPTIC AND QUICK CLUES ARE THE SAME. ANSWERS PAGE 43.

ACROSS

1 Sailor’s song (6) 4 Inferior variety (3-5) 10 Controversial issue (3,6) 11 Descendant (5) 12 British title (4) 13 Valuable (10) 15 Characters (7) 16 Scoundrel (6) 19 Tense (2,4) 21 Cool drink (4,3) 23 Symposium (10) 25 Mollusc (4) 27 Piece of turf (5) 28 Bankrupt (9) 29 Money (8) 30 Legal practitioner (6)

9 10

13 14

DOWN

22 23

25 26

Cryptic Clues

Solutions

ACROSS

DOWN

1 Strain for worker during heave? (6) 4 Imitation sour brandy lacks finish (3-5) 10 Controversial issue for a number of Wiggles (3,6) 11 Unconscionably protecting heir (5) 12 Lady made waves (4) 13 Justifiable distress: howl and writhe (10) 15 Correspondence with landlords (7) 16 Rogue mathematician transformed opening (6) 19 One degree oddly wired (2,4) 21 Drink rich red, add steak without sides (4,3) 23 Meeting to review fee concern (10) 25 Shot garden pest (4) 27 Telephoto video caught reversing driver’s

1 Cryptic clues he’d arrange (8) 2 Aunt cut and bottled fruit with machine (9) 3 Model toured Russia’s capital city a long time ago (4) 5 Played a loft with Queen and Zeppelin perhaps? (7) 6 Faulty website SSH leads to termination of email?

accident? (5) 28 After editing, novel isn’t ruined (9) 29 Use this to buy popularity (8) 30 Wearily irritated, I ignored person at the bar (6)

1 Timetable (8) 2 Human-like machine (9) 3 Ancient city (4) 5 Balloon, for example (7) 6 Sign-off (4,6) 7 Accused’s need (5) 8 Biblical hero (6) 9 Country houses (6) 14 Right in the middle (4,6) 17 Heavy weaponry (9) 18 Child (8) 20 Melancholy (7) 21 As a precaution (2,4) 22 Biting (6) 24 No way (5) 26 Not guilty, for example (4)

(4,6)

7 Top Australian politician has one claim to be

elsewhere (5)

8 Craig in a sort of denial (6) 9 Romans designed large houses (6) 14 Heart remains here? (4,6) 17 Student interrupts shocked literary big guns (9) 18 Issue with changing of the guard (8) 20 The Spanish say Isaac’s regularly sad (7) 21 At home with patient as a precaution (2,4) 22 Cutting LSD with ibuprofen and codeine caps? (6) 24 At no time is First Lady entertained by new

Republican leaders (5) 26 Two young drivers each make formal statement (4)

SUDOKU PAGE 43

2 5 7 1 6 8 3 4 9

1 9 8 4 5 3 2 6 7

3 4 6 2 7 9 1 8 5

9 6 3 8 1 7 5 2 4

8 2 5 9 3 4 7 1 6

7 1 4 5 2 6 8 9 3

4 3 1 7 9 2 6 5 8

5 7 9 6 8 1 4 3 2

6 8 2 3 4 5 9 7 1

Puzzle by websudoku.com

WORD BUILDER PAGE 43 5 Angel Royal Alone Alien Early 6 Galore Genial Angler Nearly Linger 7 Angrily Realign 8 Regional Yearling 9 Legionary

07 MAY 2021

Crossword

Click c1963

Mystery Couple

words by Michael Epis photo by Unknown

THEBIGISSUE.ORG.AU

n 2015 Japanese-Australian artist Mayu Kanamori was holidaying in Daylesford, country Victoria, wandering through the Amazing Mill Markets, browsing bric-a-brac, vintage clothing, old teacups and the like, when she came across some envelopes. Inside were vintage black-and-white photos, some clearly the work of a professional, others perhaps the product of a trained amateur. They were pictures of Japanese people. Intrigued, she bought a packet, took them home, and had a good look that night. Kanamori began to see threads. Some people appeared in multiple pictures. The pictures included children, adults and the elderly, suggesting an extended family. But who were they? And how did these photos come to be in Daylesford? The pictures spanned the 1930s to the 1960s. Some were taken at Daiei film studios, where Kurosawa shot Rashomon (1950). Kanamori felt the photos shouldn’t be separated from each other, so returned to buy the other five packets, at some expense, making about 300 photos. The seller said the photos came from a

deceased estate in Geelong, but knew nothing more. Kanamori went back to the photos during lockdown, digitised them, and began investigating. One lead seemed hopeful, about five Japanese men who came to study in Melbourne, then moved to Geelong and opened laundries. But the lead dried up. Others have suggested the photos could have arrived here in the drawers of antique furniture, often bought and imported from deceased estates overseas. The photo above was taken around 1963, deduced from dates on other photos. “The photo says love,” says Kanamori, who believes the man and woman, who she thinks are aged about 25, are a couple. Another photo shows them indoors, he in an evening kimono, suggesting intimacy. People have responded to the photos online, suggesting the rocky outcrop looks like lava. The suspended wire in the background could be for a cable car. That suggests the site might be mountainous Hakone, a daytrip from Tokyo. The strange little circular thingy behind the woman looks like it could be an explanatory plaque, for tourists. Do you know more?

FOR MORE, GO TO UNTITLED.SHOWA.COM.AU. THE PHOTOS ARE ON DISPLAY AT CENTRAL PARK MALL, SYDNEY, UNTIL 30 MAY, AND IN JULY AT GEELONG REGIONAL LIBRARY.