TN2 Issue 6

Two Trinity News

Film

Music

books

Fashion

cloud castle lake

by Karl McDonald

Art

issue 6 25 jan 2011

Food

&

Reviews

#6

mathematically safe

raging

Karl McDonald

A

ny given issue of TN2 is liable to wander far and wide through cosmopolitan worlds of music, film, art, games and more. We have broadband internet, so we can find out about stuff. But, though one day we might interview a Farsi film director or a Cleveland cult musician, we never stray too far from what, in the first issue, we called ‘hurdle-ford jingoism’. This is Dublin after all, where you’ll find David McSavage insulting you for money in Temple Bar, Pat Ingoldsby selling poetry outside Bank of Ireland College Green and Enda Kenny imagining his glorious future from the snug in the Ginger Man just off Westland Row. It’s home equally to Dean Swift and Dustin the Turkey, Flann O’Brien and the Fade Street cast. How could we not celebrate it, no matter what’s going on in the outside world? To that end, this issue of TN2 features a thinkpiece on independent record stores in Dublin, an interview with Cloud Castle Lake (who we’ll claim for Trinity on the basis that the singer goes here), the full shortlist for the Digital Socket Awards, and a chat with Irish Times film critic Donald Clarke, who provides no end of entertainment and edification for our fine city’s commuters. Plenty of other stuff too though, like a piece on digital art, an examination of the role of Rodarte in Black Swan, a really cool-looking review cover also relating to Black Swan, and a column on the way the media makes narratives out of football.

On that note, you may be interested to hear that last week during Rag Week, a Trinity News team took on a UT side hubristically calling themselves the University Times Galacticos in the most ancient of feud-resolvers: five-a-side football. Despite being heavily outnumbered, squad-wise, we beat them 3-2. We also managed to avoid vomiting during the match, which is more than can be said for one (or possibly two) of our adversaries. And we raised decent money. Team photo, featuring both of Trinity News’ previously faceless columnists Mark Walsh and Oisín Murphy (and also Editor Aoife Crowley, who categorically did not actually play five-a-side football), below.

Enjoy the issue.

Words by Keith Grehan

I Back: Mark Walsh, Oisín Murphy (TN2 back page columnist), Daniel O’Callaghan, Kevin Breathnach (TN2 Deputy Books Editor), Evan Musgrave, Ralph Marnham, the mysterious Cal. Front: Karl McDonald (TN2 Editor), Owen Bennett, Jimmy Lee, Cathal Wogan (player-manager), Aoife Crowley (non-combatant).

2

ndependent record shops have always been the bastion of modern music. Traditionally, if one wished to stray from the mainstream, the record shop was the place to pick up that album that only pressed 2000 copies, where local bands could sell their self-produced EP. The staff of these stores were invaluable in their knowledge, from rare Japanese imports to Father’s Day recommendations However, it’s no great secret that CD sales are in decline as people go fully digital. I prefer to have a hard copy of my music. That’s why I buy vinyl. It’s hard to love a CD, a disposable disc never seen again after making it onto iTunes. Vinyl is a sensory experience. When you hold an album cover it fills your entire field of view.

The sound quality is like no other, better than either CD or mp3. Imperfections such as crackle and hiss add a warmth to the music.

I recently had an argument with a friend after posing the question, ‘Could Dublin support an independent shop stocking only vinyl?’ I believe that it could. He argued that stores like newly opened RAGE on Fade Street (where Road once was) may be vinyl specialists

against the machines

but that the bulk of their profits derived from sales of merchandise such as posters, secondhand consoles, games and books. I called into RAGE, but their manager was unavailable because of flooding the previous day, so I went to Tower Records around the corner on Wicklow Street for their professional opinion.

According to staff in Tower this kind of store could be feasible, provided it knews its clientele. “Knowledgeable staff would be the keystone, new electronic albums and classic albums would be our biggest sellers. The main problem we have with vinyl is having the space for enough stock.” I asked about CD sales flagging and got a surprising answer. “CD sales have been declining for years but we still do make heavy sales. We’d sell more units of CDs than anything else. The main CD market is again the classic albums and then the very mainstream artists, as that kind of customer generally wouldn’t be too well up on downloads.” So CD sales are kept afloat by 13 year-old girls and middle-aged mums.

As downloading (be it free or legitimate) becomes the norm, the industry has to adapt. One consequence of this is that smaller artists find it impossible to get signed to a label as their fans are more likely to download their songs than buy a hard copy. This is leading to an inflation of produced acts ready for the CD and chart market, at the expense of niche genres that will never produce a

Could Dublin support an independent shop stocking only vinyl? I believe that it could.

feature

number one hit. This has lead to two major changes in how music is distributed, the rise of collectives and that of the independent artist. The independent artist releases and promotes their own music, be it paid or free download or by putting out their own album. Whilst it may be difficult to promote and expensive to produce this way, the artist can at least retain complete artistic license.

This has democratised music to some extent, as you no longer need a record deal to release your work. Many new collective labels such as Hyperdub cater for similar artists or even a whole genre, collectively funding the release and promotion of their members’ work as well as organising tours. Many see the idea of the collective label as the future of the industry, at least as far as niche genres are concerned. Rough Trade records started off as a single store in 1970s London with a love of alternative rock and punk, so it’s not an entirely new approach.

The bulk of a musician’s income comes from tours and merchandise. The record label is the biggest victim of piracy. Many artists now give away their music free of charge, recouping the loss in tours and hard copy sales.

They can abandon labels and be truly independent. But despite this, record stores look safe for the time being, playing a great role in our city streets.

3

openers

Wanderlist #6 Music More Cowbell?

It is a disputable fact that SNL sketches are infinitely better when they include Christopher Walken (see: Walken Family Reunion, Centaur Interview, The Continental). It comes as no surprise then, that the main components of one of the greatest sketches in SNL history are, in descending order of brilliance, Christopher Walken and the cowbell. Second only to the guitar solo in terms of providing face-melting musical moments, the cowbell has come to be considered synonymous with both funk and Blue Oyster Cult - a potent combination. Guns N Roses - Nightrain Before Axl turned into an insufferable arsehole with a penchant for dolphins, he had an appetite for destruction, shitty Californian wine, and cowbell. Bad Brains - Pay To Cum The uses of cowbells, also known as almglocke, extend beyond just cattle and encompass fast and furious DC hardcore seemingly. Versatile. Mötley Crüe - Dr. Feelgood Some people may think that Tommy Lee is a douche, and they may be right, considering his 33rd birthday party consisted of a carnival named Tommyland which housed dwarves who performed to a soundtrack of Radiohead songs. Nevertheless, he understands the importance of cowbell. Plus his nickname is T-bone.

Oh wait… Jay-Z - 99 Problems Jigga may have won a Grammy for “best rap solo performance” , but we can only assume this is because they haven’t yet introduced a category for “best cowbell solo performance”.

It goes without saying that they should.

Sophie Elizabeth Smith

trinitynews.ie

big red rock in the arts ArT in c ollege

Big Red Mountain Series (1967)

by Anne Madden Arts Block Queuing for my first coffee of the new term in the Arts Building, I found myself staring at a striking red painting hanging directly opposite me. Big Red Mountain Series comes from an early stage in the career of the artist Anne Madden, during which time she created a series of paintings relating to the harsh limestone landscape of the Burren, in Co. Clare, where she spent time as a child.

Pouring the paint straight onto the canvas, the artist created fluid streams of colour which form the centre focus of the composition. These graceful, flowing curves overlap to create a sense of depth and space. In this way it explores traditional characteristics of landscape painting, but handles it in a manner reminiscent of Abstract Expressionism.

The work appears to have been painted as a single panel, before being separated into six separate pieces and re-arranged into the formation on display in the Arts Building.

The majority of Madden’s paintings of the Burren use primarily greys and light pinks.

Big Red Mountain Series bucks the trend, with bright expanses of red forming the background, and streaks of the more neutral black and white offering contrast. The over-all effect is an eye catching piece of art, sure to give you something to contemplate while waiting in line for your next coffee. Jennifer Duignam

your number one fan

film The one constant all year in TN2’s

contribution to the internet has been the steady flow of quality film reviews. Is there a film you’re interested in, and we haven’t reviewed it here? Check online, and chances are, one of our excellent move writers has given it the critical wringing it deserves. podc ast In a disastrous example of either merciless fate or sabotage, the SD card holding most of this issue’s TN2 podcast met its demise in a washing machine.

These are the levels of professionalism at which we work. A new episode for the three figure swarm of listeners as soon as we recover from the shock.

T wit ter Follow us on Twitter. We say this every issue. We follow back and occasionally even say interesting and relevant stuff. @tn2magazine e tc No telling what you might find on the site at any given moment - reviews of games, theatre, art shows and new music, uncut articles from the magazine, articles that were never in the magazine, mixes and potentially anything else. Check it out.

4

FILM

Gone With The Wind (1939) Poland When we think of Gone With the Wind, we imagine the sweeping landscapes, the big beautiful dresses of Southern belles and the tumultuous life and loves of the passionate (slave-owning) Scarlet O’Hara. Or perhaps the dastardly, dashing Clark Gable uttering his magnificent “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” A civil war, some starving and some marriages come in between. So it’s hard to imagine all that drama distilled down to this strangely stark, anachronistic image of an electric fan with red hearts. Perhaps this is Joanna Gorska and Jerzy Skakun’s minimalist interpretation of the ever-fluctuating love-triangle between Scarlett, Rhett and Ashley or perhaps they were among the Polish designers who did not get to see the film in and chose instead to use this smart twist on a literal interpretation of the title. Máiréad Casey

#6

block

may contain traces of: 25 January 2011

2 rage against the machine Keith Grehan considers whether a vinyl-only record store like RAGE on Fade Street can survive in Dublin.

6 ytdjc Keith Grehan examines the link between music and fashion, from Snoop Dogg’s shirts to Kurt Cobain’s.

8 graceful as a swan Ana Kinsella looks at the role of the weird sisters of Rodarte in designing costumes for Black Swan.

9 Shot down in a blaze of glory Andy Kavanagh interviews the developer of new, skill-oriented first person shooter Bulletstorm.

10 Patterns seem to form Catherine Gaffney comes to terms with digital media in art and its implications for art as a whole.

12 everyone’s a critic Jack Mays talks to Irish Times senior film critic Donald Clarke about his days in Trinity, his work and advice for the next generation (hint: learn to write well)

14 Up in the clouds Karl McDonald speaks to hype-averse (and college age) Dublin experimentalists Cloud Castle Lake about covering Kanye, being compared to Radiohead, and unwanted attention.

hum with me, this melody music

C o m m e m o r at i n g what was broadly considered a particularly fruitful year for independent music in 2010, Quarter Inch Collective have put together a mixtape featuring some of the best contributors to the Dublin scene, covering their favourite song of the year. Squarehead seem to have established a de facto dominance over the release, with two different acts (Patrick Kelleher and Hipster Youth) covering Fake Blood, the song Nialler9’s readers voted best Irish song of the year. The band themselves kept it in-house with an indie-pop reimagining of Adebisi Shank’s (-_-). Other highlights include Cloud Castle Lake doing Kanye, partly recorded in Regent House, as well as Ginola’s post-hardcore take on Rihanna. The launch is on Thursday in the Lower Deck with Squarehead, CCL and No Monster Club, and the €10 entrance fee gets you a tape, including free download code. Karl McDonald

19 reviews TN2’s squadron of crack reviewers look intently at Black Swan, Fujiya & Miyagi, Saba, Pacman Championship Edition and more.

They come out with largely positive opinions, this time.

25 how-to/guilty pleasures Seán Mc Tiernan returns to explain how to talk to people you went to school with, while Gheorghe Rusu defends Judge Judy.

26 dirty foreigners Oisín Murphy considers narrativisation in football journalism, including the insidious threat of foreigners play-acting.

Contributors Editor: Karl McDonald. Art: Jennifer Duignam, Catherine Gaffney. Books: Stuart Winchester, Kevin Breathnach. Fashion: Ana Kinsella, Aisling Deng. Film: Alex Towers, Mairéad Casey. Food: Sadhbh O’Brien, Rose Ponsonby. Games: Andy Kavanagh. Music: Sophie Elizabeth Smith, Gheorghe Rusu, Keith Grehan. Theatre: Jamie Leptien. TV: James Kelly, Michael Barry. Cover: Cáit Fahey Images: Bridgid Purcell, Cáit Fahey, Karl McDonald, Sinéad Mercier, Martin McKenna.

Design: Gearóid O’Rourke, Martin McKenna. General assistance: Aoife Crowley. Fuelled by: Dr. Darragh McCausland, fun time loud music, NFL playoffs, #teamforrest, Pantone 159 EC.

5

fashion

change clothes and go

by Keith Grehan

iam Gallagher, Madonna, Beyonce, J Lo, Kings of Leon, MIA, 50 Cent, Kim Gordon, Bono, Beth Ditto.

What do they have in common? Their own clothing line. Music has always had a strong pull on the direction fashion will take, ranging from admissions to A&E following a safety pin to the ear a la Johnny Rotten to sales of Tommy Hilfiger hitting an all time high following Snoop Dogg’s appearance on the Saturday Night Live show in the waspish polo shirt. Morrissey and The Smiths established charity shop chic and sales of flannel shirts went through the roof following Smells like Teen Spirits debut on MTV. Why does music have such a stranglehold on the fashion industry? Is it idol worship, a drive to conform or something more?

Is it fair to say the marriage of fashion and rock ‘n’ roll has finally ground to a halt, pushed too far by advertising and the promise of false hope?

Music has always influenced what we wear and the High Street has always been quick to take notice. Topshop produces clothing lines 6

that are a direct imitation of what was in the pages of the previous week’s NME, while American Apparel and Urban Outfitters are the hipster tailors du jour. Designers used to follow trends established in musical spheres, now they create them on a whim. Mainstream artists continue to make as big a mark on fashion as indie rock bands. We can draw

Why does music have such a stranglehold on the fashion industry? Is it idol worship, a drive to conform or something more?

direct comparisons between Lady GaGa and Madonna’s influence in the 90s. We’ve seen how music brings a diverse variety of influences together, which are in turn picked up upon by fashion houses.

Music often acts as a mirror to social chance, the advent of MDMA directly influenced music in the early 90s, both regionally, for example the Madchester movement, and internationally, for example Balearic house and the rise of Ibiza. Fashions were born of these trends (the now infamous smiley face t-shirt.)

Music has always been a tool of self expression, the punk movement of the 70s and 80s were voicing a growing anger over UK government policies; grunge musicians of the 90s were concerned with the rise of globalisation as well as the widespread feeling of apathy and inadequacy felt by that generations youth, the clothing may have varied from Mohawks, leather and chains to flannel and oversize jumpers but the concept was the same. The music voiced a concern, the clothing that went with it broadcasted to the world that you embodied these beliefs, it painted you as a member of a certain social group. What was once a

DIY subculture has morphed into a carefully marketed profit. Rebellion has a price tag.

The biggest buzzword in fashion today has got to be hipster. Perhaps the first counterculture to be born exclusively through advertising, retailers simply wait for a trend of yesteryear to become acceptable again, then recycle and sell it back to us at an inflated price tag.

Anyone who has searched through the urban renewal section of Urban Outfitters has seen the same flannel shirt on sale all year around, sold for €20, repackaged and sold on with an inflated price tag. We no longer see it as simply buying clothing, in 2011 we’re trying to buy a lifestyle. We aspire to conform to nonconformity. Taste is our currency, expressed through music, fashion and art. Fashion is important as it immediately allows the outsider to equate you as a member of a group, confirming your ‘core values’ to the outside world.

‘Which came first, the music or the misery?

Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?’ Do we buy into these trends to emulate our idols, to fit into a particular group or simply because we are conditioned

‘Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?’ to? What defines an individual? Skinny jeans and a check shirt? An all in one velour tracksuit? That t-shirt for the band no-one has ever heard of?

The problem is that what may be unique and cutting edge in Dublin is generally just a watered down version of fashions originating in cities like London and New York. We’re just wearing a month-old rehash. Wearing black all day and hanging around central bank, or wearing leather jackets and V-neck t-shirts

and going to CUNT every Tuesday doesn’t mark you as anything different, we all yearn to assimilate, to act as our peers do, to be part of a greater collective. This is not something to be ashamed of, we are all guilty in one way or another, However we should not be so blind as not to see how these basic human instincts are manipulated.

I’ve been told that we are ‘Generation Y,’ raised under the lifestyle banner of instant gratification and told that we can achieve whatever we aspire to. We lack inspiration from every quarter. The generations of the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s have all had their revolutions, their Cuban Missile Crisis, the fall of the Berlin wall. It’s been said over and over that our generation’s economic meltdown may be our catalyst, we may break out of this rut and create something to define and mark our time on this planet.

I’ve heard this rhetoric every day for months now and to be honest, even 825 words into this article I’m still not quite sure what it means, or what I should expect from myself as an individual. I’ll just be happy if it gets our heads out of the American Apparel catalogue for a few minutes.

7

fashion

the rodarte metamorphosis esigner collaborations almost never live up to the mega-hype that surrounds them. Think back to the duds you’ve seen from the more upmarket studios of Gap and H&M of late. But when it comes to the big screen, there’s a certain level of merit in having a real-life high fashion designer intrude upon the sartorial proceedings on show. The latest in a long line of fashion-to-film collaborations is Darren Aronofsky’s enlisting of the supercool fashion duo Rodarte in creating the ballet costumes in his latest major film Black Swan.

This is following a rich tradition of high fashion involvement in movies, from Hubert de Givenchy dressing Audrey in Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Coco Chanel designing for the strange oneiric French film Last Year At Marienbad in the 1960s right through to JeanPaul Gaultier working out the costumes for The Fifth Element in 1997. Or think of such enigmatic screen style icons such as Annie Hall, who in her Ralph Lauren menswear ensemble remains an enduring figure of inspiration more than thirty years later.

And there’s something bizarrely perfect about Rodarte being responsible for the ballet costumes in Aronofksy’s Black Swan. Since their fashion debut in 2005, the Mulleavy sisters have filled a gap in the market for women who like their dresses both absurdly beautiful as well as informed and richly conversant.

Worn by women as diverse as Joanna Newsom, Michelle Obama as well as red-carpet staples like Cate Blanchett, the UC Berkeleyeducated pair design each collection after drinking richly from some pool or other of off-centre inspiration - think some mash-up of land art, cinema monsters, Japanese anime and Californian redwoods, and you’re almost there.

The result is perhaps the ultimate girlcrush of an aesthetic, and you can begin to see why Rodarte were selected to design the costumes for the psychosexual ballet film.

The result is a series of iconic costumes on the backs of the ballerinas of Swan Lake that are almost architectural in their form, whilst still maintaining the fundamental swan-like nature of the ballet itself.

Most dramatic of all are those worn by the ballet’s lead, played by Natalie Portman, who must undergo the radical transformation from the pure and good white swan to the dark menacing black swan. These are garments of unimaginable intricacy, certainly not things you can imagine dancing around a stage in. In proper Rodarte style, they’ve also got that unnervingly weird element to them 8

- the black swan’s crown, for instance, is made from “burnt copper and metal daggers, brambles, thorns and spikes”. Ouch.

The inspiration for the costumes apparently came from an essay by Modernist author Marianne Moore on prima ballerina Anna Pavlova, which the Mulleavy sisters republished in a guest-edited issue of Lula, a magazine aimed at the exact same kind of girls who lust after Rodarte.

So what’s the commercial point of all of this? The prohibitively-expensive Rodarte isn’t really a viable option for everyone in the world, a lot like the world of ballet. But going to the cinema i s an affordable way to interact with so-called high culture.

And borrowing the aesthetic vision and expertise of somebody as highly respected as Rodarte is going to get a few extra heads turned in your direction. It’s also going to let the Mulleavys have a little more mainstream attention, following on from their well-received collection for American megastore Target in 2009. It’s also symptomatic of a growing trend of the more curatorial aspect of fashion - cutting through the swathes of ‘designer’ names and separating those who are here to make a fast buck and those who are in it for the love of it.

But there isn’t enough at work in the film’s costumes to create a tenuous link between Rodarte’s costumes and a potential trend in street fashion for tutus and toe-shoes. Rodarte have triggered some high-fashion streetstyle trends in the past - if you’ve seen raggedy knitted tights or lacey cardigans, you’re on the right track - but at the end of it, a tutu still looks like a tutu, and if you’re popping down to the shops in ballet gear with your hair slicked in a bun, you’re still going to look like a confused, misplaced ballerina lost on her way to the studio. There are a lot of better and more, shall we say, placid screen icons to emulate, so keep that in mind when watching the film and judging the costumes for yourself.

These are garments of unimaginable intricacy, certainly not things you can imagine dancing around a stage in.

Words by Ana Kinsella, Illustration by Sinéad Mercier

I

n my opinion, the first-person shooter is a dying genre. I’m aware that nowadays to dislike Call of Duty is to court unpopularity, but I genuinely believe that the genre is running out of ideas.

Its popularity will wane, leaving a slew of second-hand headsets looking for new homes.

There is a historical precedent for this belief; I’ll bet this time two years ago even you were playing Guitar Hero. However, hope need not be lost, for the talented team at People Can Fly have been hard at work creating a game that could breathe new life into the first-person shooter. That game is Bulletstorm. I spoke to PCF designer Arcade Berg about how he and his team are reinventing the wheel.

So what exactly is Bulletstorm?

Bulletstorm is a unique First Person Shooter which is over-the-top, action-packed and ridiculously awesome with a tongue-in-cheek attitude. The player takes the role of former soldier turned space pirate, Grayson Hunt. He finds himself barely surviving a crash landing after having tried to engage his ex-commander’s warship in battle causing both ships to crash to planet Stygia. Previously a paradise planet, Stygia is now a hostile environment where Grayson and his cyborg partner Ishi find themselves evading aggressive mutants and flesh-eating gangs. Their goals are simple; get off the planet alive and exact revenge on the man who is the reason they’re there in the first place.

What do you think sets Bulletstorm apart

games

from other shooters on the market?

The game is going for a pulp sci-fi feel and it does have some great humour in it. At the same time it’s serious with a very interesting story.

It all blends into what we hope are things that most people will really appreciate. Different games work with different styles and I think the colorful and rich approach works very well with Bulletstorm. I think the biggest thing that sets Bulletstorm apart from other shooters is the Skillshot system which rewards players for killing enemies in spectacular ways, that way they actually care about doing cool stuff. It really encourages the player to be creative when playing, thanks to the many opportunities provided. Are you just going to shoot the enemy, or kick him into a cactus and impale him? Maybe you’ll wrap him with a couple of grenades first for some extra points!

How exactly does the Skillshot system work?

Normally players tend to kill enemies in the easiest way possible but we have a system that really makes people want to plan their kills and not just fill their chests with led. When you kill your enemies using cool methods you’re rewarded with skillpoints which you can use to buy new weapons, ammunition, charge shots and things like that, which in turn lets you do even more awesome kills.

That is the Skillshot system. Imagine you’re up against five enemies and you kick one of them, finishing him off with a headshot earning you a small amount of points. Then you

leash another dude and shoot an exploding barrel setting him and two others on fire, killing all three with a well placed flail grenade and of course getting extra points for killing them whilst they burned. Finally you see the last guy running away from you and you aim for his head but accidentally hit his back instead, giving you no extra points. You won, but you know that you could have done it better and actually consider replaying that part just to prove it.

Alright. Last chance. Sell it to me.

Bulletstorm has all the action you could wish for but it’s also very immersive as far as the story goes. The setting, the characters and plot are all crafted with great care and not just something slapped on top. There’s also more depth to the gameplay with moves like kicking, sliding and let’s not forget the leash which the player can use to grab enemies hiding behind cover and throw them into the air before executing them in a fashionable manner. Having all these features as part of the core mechanic really makes for a diverse playing experience and I can promise you that different players will play the same sections of the game differently. Even the same player replaying a section will play it differently than he did before. Unlike other shooters, in Bulletstorm you feel like the hunter, not the hunted. It’s like a cat and mouse game where for once, you’re the cat.

Bulletstorm is set for release on PC, PS3 and XBOX 360 on February 22nd 2011.

dead in a hail of bullets

by Andy Kavanagh

9

art

digital O

ne of my art history professors once claimed that there’s a close correlation between the rise of television sets and the installation of windows on oven and washing machine doors. Product design that “frames” ordinary domestic processes apparently arose from a culture that was increasingly inclined towards “watching” things happen.

Whether anyone actually looks forward to winding down in front of predictably haphazard soaps whose key players happen to be dirty socks is anybody’s guess, but in some respects the idea holds water; if technological innovation can determine, to an extent, how we perceive the world around us, then what are the implications of our current digitalised era? And what impact does it have on the production and consumption of visual art? Enormous, it would appear.

The rise of the personal computer (antiquated a term as that is) and the ever-accelerating sophistication of the internet has serious implications for how we process visual data. In this era, we have instant access to countless shifting windows that reveal distinctly different realities and perspectives, and a broad array of digital tools that allow for a higher degree of experimentation and amalgamation of different art forms and tra-

the everaccelerating sophistication of the internet has serious implications for how we process visual data ditions. Any overview of digital art is awash with references to the massive variety of ways in which digital technology can contribute to the construction, understanding, and display of visual art. Now there are those out there, truth be told, who shun design software completely, preferring to focus their efforts on 10

by Catherine Gaffney physical supports and using actual toolboxes full of materials and equipment. And then there are those who work purely on a digital level, sometimes disseminating their work freely online on an ideological basis that is in strict opposition to the market forces of the art world and to the institutional and corporate sanctioning that underlies it. Still others – perhaps the vast majority – dwell anywhere between the two extremes.

I once stood nearer the first camp; I was wary of Photoshop, and wondered if art that was constructed within its framework and then produced as a file, liable to repeated transmission and reproduction on any scale or support, was truly expressive enough of the individual or its place in time as we understand an original artwork to be. My thoughts on this became less fixed, however, when I began to understand that digital tools could be used as a way of understanding and refreshing more traditional art forms. I took a painting class last year which involved doing a photorealist self-portrait; this was initially frankly terrifying, but a preparatory exercise whereby, using Photoshop, we extracted and isolated different colours from the original photograph, proved very helpful, both in terms of understanding how to reconstruct the image in oil paint, and in terms of acknowledging the limitations and “unrealities” of a photograph (the flash had caused strange pink hues to appear in my hair, which definitely aren’t there usually).

Another project that was more blatantly digital was completed for a printmaking class.

Printmaking involves high levels of organisation and neatness, neither of which I possess in spades, and I occasionally wondered if the amount of time and energy it demanded – along with the fact that it is long defunct as a practical form of visual dissemination – made the course worth doing at all. Digital tools, however, completely overhauled that attitude.

Using a combination of Photoshop and Illustrator, we manipulated photographs and words, and produced negatives of these new images, which were then applied to polymer plates and exposed to UV light – technologically all a bit over my head, but the end result was a metal plate which had that same digital image raised out of it, onto which you could

Clockwise from top: Julie Mehretu, Stadia I; Catherine’s printmaking project; Andreas Muehler-Pohle, Digital Scores IV (After Nicéphore Niépce)

mystics apply ink and use within a tradition that has been known for well over six hundred years.

In fact, digital technology seems to be making way for new visual possibilities in painting – a medium often deemed stale by critical commentators. New York-based artist Julie Mehretu’s work is a case in point – the materials and supports she uses belong to a long-established painting tradition, but the abstract visuals she creates are eye-poppingly contemporary. Mehretu composes her images on a computer, and these – when completed – are then projected onto giant canvases, often completed by a team of assistants in a Berlin studio and executed in various combinations of pencil, ink, and acrylic paint. Her Stadia (2003) series is particularly arresting; there is something about the assemblage of layers that points to our digital culture, to our confusing abundance of visual information, and to our awareness of virtual spaces that are both non-existent and infinite. The visual vocabulary, moreover, points to digitally-produced art in the flat colour fields, streaming shapes, meticulously clean edges, mathematically calculated trajectories, and allusions to scientific drawing.

Science, in fact, is often brought to the viewer’s attention in works of digital art in which it offers an examination of itself – drawing attention to its composition not as an artwork but as a work of technology. Andreas Mühler-Pohle draws on the complex evolution of visual dissemination in Digital Scores IV (After Nicéphore Niépce) (1998) in which he digitized the world’s oldest preserved photograph and converted the resulting seven million bytes into alphanumeric code – apparently depicting an accurate binary description of the original. The resulting image is presented across eight panels and appears chaotic and very abstract, but given our knowledge about how it came about, it addresses issues of pictorial transmission and the invisible engineering complexities of digitalisation.

Closer to home is the output of Irish artist and cinematographer Clare Langan, whose work, The Wilderness: Part I was exhibited in the RHA until last month. Langan’s work captures footage of desolate landscapes filmed through hand-painted filters, accompanied by haunting music that evokes a sense of peering into post-apocalyptic space. Viewing this work where it was displayed on a screen in the foyer also brought to mind the curatorial

difficulties that digital art can present – the footage presented was obvious to everyone who passed by it, but the music could only be accessed by a set of headphones; devoid of music, the work appeared to address something completely different. Digitalised art may be easy to disseminate online, but when it comes to bringing it into physical public space, there is often a lack of appropriate rooms for collective immersion.

The design of the interface determines, to a degree, the manner in which the device is used and understood – just think of the

your typical laptop screen determines how scale, line and colourisation are produced and subsequently perceived. temporary “ah, weird” remarks each time Facebook overhauls itself. As a site of creativity, your typical laptop screen, for example, undeniably determines how three fundamental features of visual art – scale, line, and colourisation – are both produced and subsequently perceived. Scale, because the frame of the screen is in that sense limiting; line, because there is no subtle or expressive variation in its thickness; and colour, because, in the blue-white glow of the screen, it is not – unlike physical paint – subject to the subtle shifts that alteration of environmental lighting can create. On the other hand, digital art could be viewed as a more democratic means of producing visual art; its execution does not require a lot of space or money, and there is less financial waste in experimenting with virtual visual elements – colour doesn’t run out, and Photoshop brushes don’t require much maintenance. By all appearances, art that uses digital tools and processes certainly seems to be most reflective of our day-to-day visual experiences.

11

film

clarky cat

by Jack Mays

D

onald Clarke is The Irish Times’ senior film critic and author of the ‘Screenwriter’ blog (www.irishtimes.com/blogs/ screenwriter).

Having once been a student in Trinity, do you have fond memories of your time here?

Indeed I do. Like many of your readers, I got somewhat distracted by extra-curricular activities - not that this is a bad thing. I was heavily involved in Trinity Players and was occasionally seen in pubs such as – how predictable – The International and The Stag’s Head. The main change I detect now is that the Northerners seem to have vanished. TCD was crawling with them in the 1980s. (As a Belfast man myself, I am allowed to use the word “crawling”.)

You were a member of the now-defunct Trinity Film Society. Did you know then that you wanted to be a film critic?

I wouldn’t say that. But I certainly would always have liked to be a film critic. The Film Society then was amazing. It screened at least three films a week and the variety was superb.

One day you could see Blade Runner. The next you could view Tarkovksy’s Mirror or Passolini’s Teorema. That’s where I first caught up with foreign language cinema. I grew up before the VCR became properly ubiquitous, you see.

Before you became a film critic you had a go 12

at filmmaking, writing and directing a couple of short films. Would you say that experience affected your film criticism?

I think it does help a tiny bit. But most of the very best film critics have never sat behind a camera. So, it is far from essential. It is good to have some knowledge of the technical language. You do not, however, need to make a short to acquire that information.

Any plans to one day return to filmmaking?

Not at present. Raising the money is too much trouble. I don’t rate my talents much anyway.

Do you have a particular reader in mind when writing a review?

It depends what you are reviewing. With, say, Transformers, you should remain aware that the film has a core, fanatical constituency, but at the same time, you should make sure to stay true to your own feelings. That’s to say, if it really is awful, you should say so.

“I got somewhat distracted by extra-curricular activities - not that this is a bad thing.”

You must see a lot of crap as well. Are you still as enthusiastic about films as you were when you started out?

I think I am still as enthusiastic. Obviously there are particular types of film that fill the heart with dread. I always liked Pauline Kael’s line when asked if there was anything she looked forward to after retiring from The New Yorker. “Never having to see another Oliver Stone film,” she said. Quite right.

How important is it that a critic not only writes well but also has an encyclopaedic knowledge of cinema? Can you judge a film on face value or should you benchmark a film against touchstones of the genre?

I think it’s very, very important. You are doing a job many people would like to do. So it’s nice if you know what you’re talking about. Mind you, I’m not sure there is such a clear distinction between judging something at “face value” and setting the picture beside predecessors. I think you have to do both.

Do you ever read reviews before seeing a film, or do you go into a screening with an open mind?

Well, keep in mind that these days a lot of films open at the same in the US as here. So, quite often there aren’t any notices. Some critics are very firm about not reading reviews.

I am quite relaxed about that. I am stubborn enough in my own views not to be swayed.

2010 was the year 3D really took off. However, like many critics, you’ve been quite sceptical about it, arguing that it detracts from the experience in many cases. Are you excited about what the likes of Martin Scorsese and David Lynch are going to do with the new technology or do you think they’re just bowing to studios’ demands?

Sadly, I am not excited. But, with those guys – both of whom I am lucky enough to have met – I would never claim they were giving in to pressure. I am sure they genuinely believe in the technique. Who am I to question? What does (almost) excite me however, is Werner Herzog’s decision to use 3D for his upcoming documentary on cave paintings. Now that could be something.

On the subject of 3D, I saw on your blog that you’re chuffed with your new clip-on 3D specs courtesy of Disney. Of all the freebies you’ve ever received, what’s been your favourite?

My Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy dressing gown. Unlike the rest, it is actually used.

You’ve interviewed an array of famous actors and filmmakers. But if you had to be trapped in a lift with one, who would it be?

Well, if we’re talking about people I haven’t yet met, then it would have to be one of the few surviving icons of the old Hollywood. I don’t think Kirk Douglas can speak that well, but if he could make himself understood, then he’d

“What does excite me is Werner Herzog’s decision to use 3D for his upcoming documentary on cave paintings.” do very nicely. Of the folk I have met, Herzog, Scorsese or Cronenberg would all be acceptable. They are, as well as being great filmmakers, very interesting to chat to.

Of course, you can’t be interviewing Angelina Jolie or swanning around Cannes every day. What are some of the downsides of being a film critic?

I’m not falling for that. Even the slightest complaint triggers a volley of sarcastic “Oh poor you” emails, (understandably enough, I should add) So, I’ll just keep my few moans to myself.

You said of yourself, “I am one of the few critics who regularly complains that there is not enough violence in contemporary

cinema.” Do you not believe that violent movies have the power to desensitise, especially when seen by the young?

I’m not sure what this much-discussed “desensitisation” means. I have always been a fan of exploitation films. Just as Shakespeare’s audience lapped up the eviscerations in Titus Andronicus, contemporary cinema fans will continue to have fun watching nicely violent shockers. Go to a horror festival and – as at heavy metal events – you will encounter the friendliest folk in the world.

Filmmakers sometimes admit that sitting in on public screenings to judge the audience’s reaction to their film. Don’t you think it’s sometimes hard to gauge the success of a film at a press screening? Particularly comedies?

It works both ways. When people are chattering, scoffing popcorn or kicking the seat – as they do at public screenings – then it can be very hard to remain happily objective. I’m not sure laughter from others in any way affects my opinion of a comedy.

Finally, do you have any advice for aspiring film critics out there?

It’s old-fashioned advice I am afraid. Watch a great many films and make sure to view them from all eras. Learn to write good English.

That makes me sound like an appalling old fogey. But nothing antagonises editors more than bad prose.

13

music

castles in the snow

by Karl McDonald

amed after a Vladimir Nabokov short story and playing music built more around tension and texture than versec h o r u s - verse structures, it might be a little surprising that Cloud Castle Lake have received as much attention as they have. To the extent that the Irish indie music press can even have a consensus, they are universally considered an exciting prospect. This mostly dates back to Irish Times music critic Jim Carroll seeing a gig in the Tivoli and adopting their cause, culminating in a glowing write-up in the Ticket’s four-page daily Electric Picnic freesheet.

They’re happy that people have noticed them, but they recognise that this kind of attention before any official releases have even appeared adds a certain amount of pressure.

“I don’t really like it to be honest. There’s an expectation there for what we have to do and when we have to do it by,” guitarist Brendan William Jenkinson says. With only singer and current Trinity student Daniel McAuIey absent, I sat down in the Joy of Cha in Temple Bar with Brendan, bassist Rory O’Connor and drummer James O’Donohoe to talk about origins, hype, influence and their cover of Kanye West’s Lost In The World for Quarter Inch Collective’s Quompilation - to date, amazingly, the only release they’ve got.

14

When you started out, were you making weirder experimental music or was it more normal?

Brendan: When it really first started, it was just me and James in a drum shed in school.

We used to just cover Nirvana all day, but all you could hear was James’ cymbals. Rory came into the band, and I was singing for a while, but my voice wasn’t that strong, so Rory asked Dan to come in, and he did this really quiet audition. We were like “yeah, okay”, and then slowly his voice started building up.

He didn’t just arrive in able to do all the falsetto stuff?

Brendan: For a while, he won’t want me to say this, but he sounded really emo. But he sort of found his own voice after that. I think one of the first songs where we thought, “yeah, this is a really cool sound to go it” was Magicians. That was kinda pop-based. It had a really pop organ riff and the drums were syncopated and it had a catchy melody. But at the same time we wanted it to be really big and long.

Rory: We all took inspiration when we were younger from that Dublin band Twinkranes.

We all seemed to fall in love with them.

James: I think we were quite isolated in boarding school, and Rory did work experience in

Temple Lane Studio and met Anto in there.

He was talking to Anto about bands and stuff, and that kinda opened our eyes to a lot of Irish music we’d never heard before. Twinkranes are just probably the main example.

Brendan: But we didn’t sound like Twinkranes. We didn’t really know what we wanted. We wanted a really big sound, or I did anyway.

When did you started messing around with loops and effects and stuff?

Brendan: I’d say that was when Dan got his Kaoss Pad. He just started making loads of samples in his bedroom, through his laptop computer mic. He has this tiny little guitar, that he just did loads of loops on. That’s when a lot of sounds started happening. It was really fun to create a little sound world and just listen to that for ages. But then the real challenge came when we tried to make that into a proper song with structure.

How much of your writing is improvised?

Is that a part of it?

Brendan: Not a whole lot is improvised actually. We’ve never been that into jamming. It works for some bands.

James: We tried the whole jamming thing, but it just ended up with us doing something

Photo by Cáit Fahey. L-R: Rory O’Connor, Daniel McAuley, Brendan William Jenkinson, James O’Donohue

initially that sounded good, but would end up sounding like a big mess.

Brendan: Everyone would want to get louder.

So how do you feel about people mentioning you as a ‘Band to Watch’. You were mentioned in the Ticket, and even stuff like Drop-D online.

James: It’s really nice. It’s nice to have people finally noticing us. It’s also really weird that people are noticing us, considering we don’t have any releases out and we haven’t recorded much. It’s really nice, but at the same time we don’t want this to be something that happens now and then when we finally put something out, this phase of... I’m not gonna say hype because that’s too strong a word...

Brendan: I’d say it is a bit of hype. I don’t really like it to be honest. There’s an expectation there for what we have to do and when we have to do it by. Somebody said to us recently that we have twelve to fifteen months to make it.. That’s kind of scary to hear. We like to work at our own pace. In terms of writing, it can take months for songs to come out. But we are working towards an album, and that album will be a culmination of everything we’ve been doing for the last three or four years.

Are you recording that at the moment?

Brendan: We’re in ‘pre-production’. The recording stage hasn’t started yet.

James: We won’t say too much about it though.

Brendan: It’s scary that, say if we weren’t happy with it when we recorded it and had to do it again, that people would be disappointed. Or else think that we’re fake. It’s weird in that regard. But it’s also exciting to see your name mentioned in the Irish Times. Especially when we did the Picnic and the next day I think we were mentioned twice in the supplement. That was the best feeling ever. There were hundreds of bands playing it, and our name is there.

Do you notice more people showing up, or different types of people showing up since?

James: Not really. We haven’t really done many of our own shows recently. The ones we have done have been things like the Ones To Watch festival in Whelans, or support slots or whatever. So it’s kinda hard to know whether those people are there to see you.

Brendan: As well, we don’t have any kind of promotional management, or booking agent.

We do it all ourselves, so we’re learning about that aspect of things as well.

Is that weird that your first physical release is a Kanye cover?

Brendan: We recorded a song [A Wolf Howling] last summer, and we learned a lot from that. The result wasn’t exactly what we wanted to achieve. I think we went about it all wrong. We recorded certain parts of it, and then a month later recorded more. We thought, oh, this is gonna work, it’s sounding good now so it’ll work. But it was a different stage in the whole evolution of the song. So there were slight differences every time we recorded things. So that’s why it didn’t work. It’s up online now, it seems to be released in a way.

One of the questions I had written down was just “when are you gonna release something” but I suppose “when you’re done” is the answer to that.

Brendan: Yeah, when we’re done. We really, really want to. And we want to make it really special. Everyone does, but we’re very conscious of releasing something that’s maybe sub-par. With all the hype that surrounds it would make it like, “oh, this is shit.”

Sometimes people can tend to say weird things while trying to explain your music.

The write-up on Heineken Music says ‘electro-rock’ but if you read that and imagined what it sounded like, you could not be further from what you actually do sound like.

15

tv Diary #5

by James Kelly

James: Yeah, it’s so annoying. When we get asked what kind of music we play, I don’t think we can answer it. But when people try and explain how we sound, they can really fuck it up sometimes.

Rory: When we played in the Tivoli Theatre, Jim Carroll was there, that was the first time he saw us. And he had a little mention then in the Ticket saying ‘Ones To Watch: Cloud Castle Lake’. It was like, “oddball flourishes”, a really weird description of our music. Now it’s completely different.

Brendan: Jim’s got some codes I think. He said one thing, “1+1=7 psych dramatics”. Did you get that?

It must be an obscure Radiohead reference.

Brendan: To 2+2=5 [from 2003’s Hail To The Thief]?

Yeah, it has to be. How do you feel about the Radiohead comparison?

Brendan: Well we were really conscious of it early on, because to be honest, they were a massive influence. Although I think we’re kinda moving away from that and coming to terms with our songwriting and process now, so it’s changing.

James: I was never a huge Radiohead fan.

Rory: It’s more Brendan and Dan. They had a kind of obsession.

Brendan: You have to be inspired by bands

“we’re very conscious of releasing something sub-par. with All the hype that surrounds it would make it like, ‘oh, this is shit.’”

16

sometimes. Even by stage mannerisms. When I see Radiohead play live, it’s just amazing. I saw them play in Berlin in 2008. One of the early songs was Nude [from 2008’s In Rainbows] and I just remember looking at Jonny for most of that song and seeing how comfortable he was. His guitar was all he was focusing on, despite this massive crowd and this massive sound rig. He was just there with his guitar playing it really softly. I was just like, how are you that calm?

So why cover Kanye?

Brendan: Obviously the album came out and there was lots of talk about it. Dan really liked it. He was in the Ticket last week talking about it, actually. I love Bon Iver too, ande’s on the track we did, Lost In The World, so we were drawn to that. But there was more to it than just Kanye. Do you know that Morning Benders video, For Yours Truly? They get loads of musicians in a room, all their friends, it’s all done live.

I really wanted to emulate that idea, so we went to Regent House in Trinity where the acoustics are just like, clap and there’s a ten second trail. We got some of our friends and some members of the Trinity Orchestra to play, it was lots of fun, but suddenly when we started to play we realised “shit, we haven’t actually rehearsed this.” It was that idea, to try and take this Kanye song which has this really massive joyous feeling about it, and try and create the Morning Benders thing. When that didn’t actually come out very well, we decided to layer it. That recording actually is on the compilation, but massively layered.

So it wasn’t a decision to consciously different? You must have known that a lot of people were going to pick Irish bands.

James: I didn’t know that, I thought it was going to be a lot of high profile artists.

Brendan: There was a bit of challenge in it as well, because we don’t play that kind of music.

But it wasn’t like, oh, let’s do something really different.

Rory: We were originally thinking of doing Tightrope by Janelle Monáe.

Brendan: That’s still quite different...

I had grand ambitions to write about lots of really great, quirky TV shows. TV shows that you probably haven’t heard about. A mix of underground hipster shows and ones that can be ironically appreciated. But instead I’m going to be subversive and write about Friends.

Well, not quite. I mean I have been watching a lot of Friends (8PM-9PM on E4 EVERY day), and probably so have you. I still love Rachel and Joey and the gang just as much as I did when the show started seventeen years ago.

So much so that I have been following all of their new movie and television endeavours.

Yes, even Jennifer Aniston’s movies. But what you may not have known is that four of our six dear Friends have returned to serialised TV recently. You can watch Monica (with cameos from Rachel and Phoebe) in Cougar Town, Joey in Episodes, Chandler in the upcoming Mr. Sunshine, and finally Phoebe in her webshow-turned-real-show Web Therapy.

I am a religious follower of Cougar Town.

And I don’t care who knows it. Who cares if the show exists on a plane of superficiality rivalling that of Jersey Shore, or that the characters have the emotional maturity of a raw carrot? The script is witty, sharp and it makes me laugh. Cox is on top form as Jules, a role I can only describe as Monica with a drinking problem, and the supporting cast are on par with her, with Dr. Cox’s wife from Scrubs, Jordan (real name Christa Miller) playing what is essentially the same character. The show originally focussed on the trials and tribulations of a slightly older woman new to dating, but it has developed beyond this to become more of an ensemble comedy, with many of the minor characters of season one gaining more substantial air time as it progresses. Perhaps what I like most about Cougar Town is that it knows exactly what it is and feels no shame for it. It’s cheap and dirty, but you love it.

Episodes has only begun to air on BBC2 on Sundays at 9.30. It’s an altogether different show to Cougar Town, with LeBlanc playing himself, albeit in a much exaggerated manner, opposite two British actors, Stephen Managan and the brilliant Tamsin Greig, who play a married comedy writing duo whose very British show, Lyman’s Boys has won countless BAFTAs, and the show follows them as they travel to LA on the behest of a network head to produce an American version. It’s an interesting show, and hopefully one that will have a chance to do well.

music

plugged in Happily coinciding with news of the Meteor Awards’ cancellation is the announcement of the Digital Socket Awards, a comprehensive set of awards for Irish music, judged by music bloggers and celebrated in the Grand Social on February 3rd. Presented by Gareth Stack, Trinity alumnus, stand-up comedian and central combatant of the time Pirahna got pulled by the Junior Dean, and featuring Groom, Meljoann and two secret (but seriously worthwhile) guests, there are a limited number of tickets available for €10 from tickets.ie. Proceeds go to Aware.

The Digital Socket Awards 2011 Shortlist 1. Best Design (Website, Artwork, Posters) Adebisi Shank – This is the Second Album Of A Band Called Adebisi Shank Cathy Davey – The Nameless Halves – It Goes, It Goes (Forever and Ever) O Emperor – Hither Thither Villagers – Becoming a Jackal

Two Door Cinema Club – Tourist History

2. Best Independent Label Any Other City Osaka Records Out On A Limb Popical Island Richter Collective

10. Best Indie The Cast of Cheers – Chariot Grand Pocket Orchestra – The Ice Cream Groom – Marriage Ham Sandwich – White Fox Jogging – Minutes

3. Best Video Ambience Affair – Devil In The Detail BATS – Star Wormwood Cathy Davey – Little Red Patrick Kelleher & His Cold Dead Hands – Contact Sports Rubberbandits – Horse Outside

7. Best Folk Simon Fagan – Outside Looking In Halves – It Goes, It Goes (Forever and Ever) James Vincent McMorrow – Early in the Morning O Emperor – Hither Thither Villagers – Becoming a Jackal

4. Best Music Photography Kieran Frost kDamo Ruth Medjber Alessio Michelini Loreana Rushe

8. Best Rock and Alternative Adebisi Shank – This Is The Second Album Of A Band Called Adebisi Shank Enemies – We’ve Been Talking Jogging – Minutes Redneck Manifesto – Friendship Thread Pulls – New Thoughts

5. Best Radio Show Alison Curtis (Today) Donal Dineen – The Small Hours (Today) I-con (Phantom) Paul McLoone (Today) Right Click Radio with Aoife Mc (2xm) 6. Best Pop Cathy Davey – The Nameless The Divine Comedy – Bang Goes the Knighthood Fight Like Apes – The Body of Christ and the Legs of Tina Turner So Cow – Meaningless Friendly

9. Best Electronic & Hip Hop Meljoann – Squick Not Squares – Yeah OK R.S.A.G. – Be It Right or Wrong Shit Robot – From The Cradle To The Rave Solar Bears – She Was Coloured In

11. Best EP The Ambience Affair – Patterns And So I Watch You From Afar – The Letters Angkorwat – Early The Holy Roman Army – Desecrations Sacred Animals – Welcome Home 12. Best Newcomer The Cast Of Cheers Jennifer Evans Hipster Youth James Vincent McMorrow Solar Bears 13. Song of the Year Adebisi Shank – Genki Shank The Cast Of Cheers – I Am Lion Cathy Davey – Little Red Squarehead – Fake Blood Villagers – The Meaning of the Ritual 14. Album of the Year Adebisi Shank – This is the Second Album...

The Cast Of Cheers – Chariot Cathy Davey – The Nameless James Vincent McMorrow – Early in the Morning Villagers – Becoming a Jackal 17

SeX

recipe

do the mash

the unattainable

Rose Ponsonby & Sadhbh O’Brien

The self-loathing guy

Monday I’ve woken up in this room for five months of

Monday mornings now. A grey sock, a black hair bobbin and a set of red earrings adorn a shelf of my bedside table, by themselves. The one that owned the sock once asked me about the earrings. I stumbled over some words, trailing off once I remembered that I didn’t give a really care what she thought because she was here, cheating on her boyfriend, and I didn’t have to answer to her. Monday is always the day where I reaffirm myself.

Tuesday Venturing across campus, I pass the English Girl. In moments of emotional strength, I say I’d like to wear her like a glove. At weaker moments, I recognise that I’ve set her up as an unshakable romantic ideal. She’s probably unavailable. She probably has lads doing endo bike stunts on her pert little arse every day of the week anyway, I think to myself in a moment of weakness that masquerades as laddish strength. I go to Crawdaddy later.

Wednesday Hungover. No thanks, college. Not having sex on a regular basis isn’t a bad thing, but remembering when you were makes it seem so. I contemplate having a wank while wearing the black bobbin around my wrist, but obviously that would have no effect on the experience whatsoever, or would probably create an extra level of wank-guilt that I don’t need. Wednesday ends with me falling asleep, lad in hand, job incomplete.

In moments of emotional strength, I say I’d like to wear her like a glove.

At weaker moments, I recognise that I’ve set her up as an unshakable romantic ideal.

ith 2011 looking to be just as tough as the last few years, we decided to welcome you back with another homage to our national vegetable, the humble spud. A mountain of mash, with rivulets of golden butter flowing cheerily down its sides, is the perfect antidote to budget woes and the general January gloom.

Don’t dish the simple things in life! A generous bowlful of light, creamily buttery mash, eaten only with a spoon and copious amounts of salt and pepper is guaranteed to provide comfort when most needed.

A few simple steps are all that stand between you and starchy heaven. First, be sure to salt the water being used to cook the potatoes, and, if you have one, use a steamer to cook your peeled spuds rather than boiling them as you’ll get more mash for your money, and a much less watery end result.

Once the potatoes are cooked, drain them, but before throwing them back into your cooking pan, use it to heat up a little milk, or cream if you’re being truly indulgent, and melt your chosen quantity of butter in it as well. Finally, the key to light, fluffy mash that will stand up in peaks is to beat some air back into it with a wooden spoon post-mashing.

Lastly, a few tips for enlivening your mash, so that it never gets old! To your traditional mash, try adding grated cheddar along with a spoonful or two of grainy mustard, always a crowd pleaser! If you want to be a little more gourmet, swap the cheddar for some crumbled feta, and chuck in a few chopped up black olives as well.

Cooked spinach mixed in is also a way of smuggling in one of your five-a-day with minimal pain. Or, if you’re using your mash as an accompaniment to good slab of red meat, chuck in a tablespoon or so of horseradish sauce to pep things up a bit.

Thursday To even complain about not having enough

sex... It hasn’t been very long, about two months I think/ know. When did people start having such regular sex? I mean, the bit of a hankering for sex that comes and goes, even I know that it isn’t really about sex. All I want is a girl to love. We could cuddle and watch bad telly and eat chocolate, and when she says that she’s worried about the negative effects of eating too much chocolate, I’ll tell her that she’s mental to think such a thing, encouraging her to eat more and finish her glass of wine, a combination of afrodisiacs that would surely result in at least some clothed dry riding on the couch. I think.

Friday A girl is coming over later. She’s not the English

Girl. She’s from somewhere else. Monaghan or some godforsaken shit hole like that. She has previously quoted the ‘ask not what your county can do for you’ GAA ad campaign so she’s probably game ball. She’s got a nice accent actually, and is very pretty, but there’s no point in messing about; nobody who likes you could possibly have the taste that you would like a girl to have. Perhaps that’s the problem with self-loathing. So we do sex and that’s grand. She likes it while I’m moderately amused by a girl who thinks that giving it up so easily is actually endearing to me. Oh shit, the cycle begins again on Monday.

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Sadhbh & Rose’s

Mashed potatoes

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reviews Films

Books

Restaurants

Music

Guilty pleasures

Natalie Portman in Black Swan 19

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II.1

I

n the words of Black Swan’s director, Darren Aronofsky, “Ballet can be dark, tragic, gothic,” an apt description of his new film. Black Swan fascinatingly combines The Understudy, an unrealised script by Andres Heinz about jealousy amongst off-Broadway theatre actors, with the premise of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Double, a novella about a man obsessed with the notion that a colleague is taking over his identity. Though it concerns a ballerina, the film outlandishly has much in common with both Italian horror cinema and the psychological thrillers and horror films of Roman Polanski’s and David Cronenberg’s early careers. Composed of many of the elements that made up those films, Black Swan is full of shocking displays of horrific imagery, a cast of characters that can only be ambiguously interpreted, and a protagonist whose deteriorating sanity casts a shadow of doubt over everything the viewer is shown. Cleverly modelled on the plot and moral conflict of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, the film is the culmination of a number of interesting influences and ideas. Black Swan is a trashy piece of high art that likely will divide audiences.

Black Swan is the tale of Nina (Natalie Portman), an ambitious ballerina living with her mother (Barbara Hershey), a former dancer herself, in a New York apartment. When the artistic director of Nina’s company, Thomas (Vincent Cassell), forces the retirement of his former prima ballerina and lover Beth (Winona Ryder), the double lead role of White Swan and Black Swan in a new production of Swan Lake becomes available. Thomas admires Nina’s flawless technique; she is more than suitable for the White Swan, but he is reluctant to cast her as she lacks the passion necessary to be the other half of the part. Nina’s situation is not helped by the appearance of San Francisco dancer Lily (Mila Kunis), the Black Swan to Nina’s White. To grow into the Black Swan, Nina is told to “lose herself,” an 20

black swan Director: Darren Aronofsk y instruction she takes far too seriously. In her quest for perfection Nina undergoes a dark metamorphosis of character and mind as everything moves towards the opening night of Swan Lake, the stunningly ghastly finale of the film.

Black Swan can most definitely be read as a companion piece to Aronofosky’s previous film The Wrestler. Both films follow the story of performers whose extreme devotion to their professional lives leads to the destruction of their personal lives. Wrestling and ballet, though typically considered to be on opposite sides of the artistic spectrum, a low art and a high art respectively, both involve a comparable level of physical expression.

Trading small town wrestling rings for New York ballet, Black Swan changes subjects and scenery, but it continues an exploration into some of the same themes that Aronofsky has delved into before. Black Swan also reminded me of Aronofsky’s first film Pi, about a man who goes insane in his quest to mathematically decipher the universe, and his The Fountain, in which a man appears to take control of time and space. Aronofsky’s characters aspire to lofty, often unobtainable heights. Another of Aronofsky’s earlier films, Requiem for a Dream, about the spiraling descent of four drug addicts, comes to mind as well. Much like that film, Black Swan is a deeply disturbing piece that will drive you mad and haunt you well after the curtain closes.

Black Swan, largely deprived of light and color, looks great. Shot using a single camera with a taste for close-ups, the film’s cinematography succeeds in creating a sinister sense of paranoia and claustrophobia, reeling the

audience deep into the mind of someone going increasingly insane. Sound and special effects do well to heighten the fantastic horror imagery of the film, furthering the cinematography’s efforts. Complementing all of this is Clint Mansell’s spectaculary disturbing score which works in Tchaikovsky’s original music.

Aronofsky takes his approach to connecting seemingly disparate art forms to the style of his film, bringing a lowbrow horror aesthetic into it. Generally this is cool, but at times the shock horror imagery of the film goes so far over the top that I found myself inappropriately laughing out loud. One scene where this happens, even though it does contain value to the story, especially stands out. I don’t want to spoil it all for those who haven’t already heard about it, but you’ll definitely know what I mean when you see it. Okay, it’s a lesbian sex scene.

I must also mention Portman’s very compelling performance, surely the best she has ever given. She stays with the over the top approach the film often uses without breaking from character. The ten months of ballet training she did in preparation for the role, in addition to the dance instruction she had long ago, shows. The rest of the cast is solid as well.

Cassell plays another character not unlike the ones we’ve seen him do before, but he’s just as watchable as ever.

Black Swan is far from a feel-good film and it may leave some ultimately unsatisfied. The different genre elements it brings together never completely mesh and the theatricality of the whole thing can be somewhat annoying.

At the same time, on many levels, the film is a significant artistic achievement. It looks and sounds fantastic, and its blend of influences and ideas is awesome in its uniqueness. Overall I appreciated the experience of seeing the film, but Black Swan certainly does not cater to everyone’s tastes. If anything, Black Swan is something worth seeing for the uniqueness factor alone. Zander Sirlin

I

I

Saba

pacman c.E. Playstation Network

26 Clarendon St, Dublin 2

food Saba, on Clarendon Street, is undoubtedly one of Dublin’s gems, serving up the most delicious Thai and Vietnamese dishes at truly delectable prices. Since opening in 2006, the restaurant has gone from strength to strength, regularly winning awards for excellence in both food and drink. Miles ahead in taste, sophistication, and freshness when compared to other Asian style eateries around Dublin, Saba also wins hands down when it comes to prices.

The key to eating at Saba is to take advantage of their amazing fixed price lunch menu, two courses for €15.95, which is available everyday from 12-6pm. The extended time frame of this ‘Lunch’ offer, combined with the fact that it’s usually pitch black come 5pm, means that the savvy diner can sneak in and enjoy a seriously tasty early supper at a terrific price.

Saba’s wide menu features curries, noodles, wok dishes, salads, soups, and meat and fishbased mains and includes a good range of familiar dishes mixed through with more exotic offerings such as soft shell crab stir fried with curry powder. There is also an excellent array of vegetarian and coeliac-friendly offerings, all clearly marked on the menu. The dishes, prepared with a lightness of touch and fresh, vibrant ingredients, are a definite cut above Dublin’s average Thai fare.

For starters, don’t miss the ‘Saba Chicken Wings’, which are so succulent, sweet, and sticky that you’ll be trying to discreetly gnaw on the bones, just in case they’ve got any flavour still stuck to them! Also, worth a look in is the ‘Satay Gai’ (chicken satay), ‘Por Pia Thod’ (crispy vegetable spring rolls), and the oh so light despite being deep-fried, ‘Tangy Tempura Pak’.

When it comes to mains, the ‘Phad Thai’ is really delicious; full of fat prawns and fresh flavours, and is practically unrecognizable when compared to the greasy mass of overcooked noodles which is usually served up under the same name. The ‘Bangkok’ noodles are excellent as well, and really pack a wallop if chilli is your thing. The curries are also superb, particularly the less common Yellow and Massamam curries on offer. And, to top things off, the portion sizes are generous to the point that I usually end up cycling home with a doggy bag swinging gaily from my handle bars.

Saba also boasts an extensive cocktail list, and these cocktails are a far cry from what

most of us are used to downing at the Porterhouse or Captain Americas! Well executed and delicious, the drinks taste as good as they sound on the menu and deserve to be savoured. The décor inside lives up to the quality of the food. Self-styled “colonial meets contemporary”, the restaurant is decked out with moody dark wood and leather, which combines with warm lighting to create a great atmosphere. The only downside is that the acoustics do leave something to be desired.

Saba devotees can also avail of food to go either from Clarendon St, or from their takeaway outfit in Rathmines, Saba-to-go, perfect for those of you in Halls or the surrounding areas. Again, Saba-to-go is a class above the usual Thai takeaway, and though it is slightly more expensive, you get what you pay for, and it is worth it as a treat, and again the portion sizes are blissfully generous. Saba is an outfit that genuinely deserves to do well, and once discovered, will keep you going back again and again.

Rose Ponsonby

games There’s a lot to consider when reviewing video games. So much in fact, that it can be difficult to decide where to place more importance. A game can be incredibly put together, visually pleasing and technologically advanced and simultaneously boring, derivative and just not fun. No medium blurs the lines between art and entertainment quite the way games do, and finding that illustrious middle ground has become more and more important the further we get into the mediums adolescence.

Pacman Championship Edition is a shockingly impressive example of how a game can represent the pinnacle of an artistic endeavor and at the same time disregard that the endeavor ever existed. For centuries artists have been obsessed with reinventing their works in attempts to keep them relevant. Not only does PCE achieve this, it completely masks the fact it was even trying by simply being fun.

The gameplay hasn’t changed much, not that it had to. The original arcade version is still sought after enough to warrant shelfspots on the Wii’s virtual console and Apple’s AppStore, but what has changed has changed for the better. The goal is still to survive the malicious A.I. minds of Inky, Blinky, Pinky and Clyde until the given time elapses, collecting what my insultingly-Irish mind insists on referring to as ‘pips’.

The catch this time around is that these ‘pips’ reveal themselves in stages as Pacman consumes fruits and coins and various other power-ups, providing a more localized, focused experience than before. Not only that, but the game increases its speed as the timer counts down. By the end of a five minute game, expect your reflexes to have been seriously tested.

In addition to a charming visual overhaul, there are some challenge modes on offer too, simple conditions and tweaks added to the standard game mode and placed in a customized map for a slightly more difficult pacman experience. Excruciatingly so, in some cases.

Pacman is one of gamings oldest icons and if his latest iteration proves anything, it’s that you can improve on a classic. Pacman Championship Edition is quite simply a joy to play and something every Playstation owner should download immediately if they haven’t already.

Andy Kavanagh

21

&

I

ventrilloquizzing Fujiya & Miyagi

II.2

botticelli Julian Schnabel food Botticelli’s Gelateria in Temple Bar serves some of the best ice cream to be had in Dublin. As a devoted fan of their gelato, a visit to the adjacent main restaurant had long been on the cards, and it was with high hopes that a friend and I entered one evening to avail of their €13.95 “Early Bird” menu. The first dash to our hopes, however, was the drabness of the interior, which is uninspired to say the least, and sadly, the food too proved to be mediocre at best, and faintly nauseating at worst.

Indeed, the only bit of character Boticelli had to offer was some bizarre music generated by what seemed to be two CDs playing over the top of each other!

The “Early Bird” deal comprises of a starter and main course, and there was a decent, if predictable, selection of entrees, pastas and pizzas to choose from. We opted for Garlic Bread and the Crostino al Prosciutto to start, followed by Spaghetti Carbonara and the ham and salami topped Pizza Romana, all accompanied by their finest tap water.

One got the impression however that Gordon Ramsay would be apoplectic were he to visit Boticelli. The Crostino al Prosciutto was a supremely stodgy concoction of a slice of bread drowned in tasteless mozzarella topped with a lonely slice of prosciutto, and even the Garlic Bread was boring and dry, quite a feat!

The main courses also failed to impress, the Carbonara was very runny and the taste of egg overwhelmed the other flavours and soon became a little sickening. The pizza, with a crisp base and nicely herby tomato sauce was definitely the better option and the highlight of the evening, but even so it couldn’t quite make up for the rest of the meal and the sterile atmosphere. Sadly not one to recommend, better to stick to their ice cream!

Rose Ponsonby

22

Music Fujiya & Miyagi’s brand of electro-pop

is as unique as they come. Blending Kraftwerk and krautrock with pop and R&B, whispered vocals, elaborate drum-breaks, and repeated lyrics about inanimate objects, they create an entity which on paper reads like a car-wreck, but in practice works quite wonderfully. The aesthetic wit of the lyrical wordplay, propelled

by David Best’s unique delivery, thumping synths and basslines, has made their last two records unparalleled delights in the realm of this practically non-existent genre.

While the lyrical content, previously almost devoid of emotional undertones, could not allow the rather ambient music to come across as dark, here the looming riffs rear their head straight away. The title track builds ominously with the line “We move our arms when you pull our strings”, before synthetic violins very briefly let us know everything’s okay, fading into Sixteen Shades of Black & Blue, a soft-edged Prodigy/Bad Seeds bastard child apparently centred on the unbearable image of a tortoise under harm.

It’s an odd contradiction - the relaxed music, the vaguely violent lyrics - but it seems to pop up again a few more songs in. OK has Best attempting to comfort the listener with his raspy lull, yet the bass and piano melodies sound like they’ve come straight from the American Beauty soundtrack, and as the drums swell, heavily echoed cymbals and choir “ooh”s add to the chilling atmosphere.

Despite this, it’s easy to see a sense of fun lurking below the surface, no matter what the

subdued execution and subject matter would indicate. Only three songs in, we see the band at their liveliest, with a Midnite Vultures-type sleaze funk composition: a throbbing rhythm, strategically placed snare, and sharp one-liners tied in the very same Beck tradition (“Has the cat got your tongue? / You don’t know which side your bread is buttered on”). On Taiwanese Roots, Best pushes his limited vocal abilities to, well, the limit. By way of fauxscat and lingering purr, he relives the highlights of 2006’s Transparent Things.

Their biggest - perhaps only - shortcoming is the rare hit or miss line. The subtle wit permeating F&M’s lyrics is absent on Pills, by the questionable “We read medical articles / Taken from medical journals”. But, if you’re not sated by an explanatory It’s-all-in-thedelivery, perhaps a That’s-part-of-the-charm will help. There is a certain tinge of irony in the line “You love to hear the sound of your own voice” being uttered by the self-aware Best on closer Universe; whether it’s intended as self-deprecating is unclear.

Fujiya & Miyagi inhabit a space that, frankly, they don’t share with anyone else, and it’s doubtful anyone else wants it, either because it seems like a thankless job, or because there is an inimitable idiosyncrasy to their music.

But there, they thrive, with all their imperfections and oddities, most of which make them all the more likeable. Ventriloquizzing is like the band themselves: calm, balanced and extremely capable.

Gheorghe Rusu

II.1

the fighter Director: David O. Russell

I

an object of beauty Steve Martin

Book s I anticipated the release of Steve Martin’s latest novel with great excitement Martin’s previous novels – Shopgirl and The Pleasure of my Company – are narrated with a subtle sentimentality which never overwhelms the reader but is just enough to make the banal and mundane seem poignant and evocative.

His latest novel tells the story of the young art world aficionado, Lacey Yeager. We are introduced to Lacey as a young art history student, hell bent on getting to the top. Lacey begins her career working in the basement of Sotheby’s auction house in New York and rises to the summits of the contemporary art world with considerable speed, undeterred by the values and relationships compromised on the way up.

All of this, we are reminded, is made possible by the vast sum of wealth, which Lacey mysteriously acquires at the beginning of the novel. Suspense is maintained throughout the novel as the narrator makes several allusions to the source of this wealth, but never reveals it until the end. Lurking in the background as a constant threat to Lacey’s success, we are made aware from the beginning that the discovery of how Lacey obtained this money would result in her banishment from the exclusive world she inhabits.

The novel unfolds within New York’s contemporary art world, opening in the early 1990’s and spanning the next two decades.

Martin approaches this topic from an entertainingly cynical perspective, verging on satire at times. The art scene in New York is depicted as one that consumes all those whom

it encounters and this point of view is held throughout the entire novel. It is amplified by the narrator’s witty responses to the goings on within Lacey’s world – one in which two paintings hung alongside one another are thus “in dialogue” and “repetitive silk screens rival great masters”.

Martin’s notorious sense of humor is evident in his commentary on the machinations of the art world – “because established artists were achieving out-of-reach prices, collectors turned to contemporary, and New York responded” – which is delivered with sarcastic punch: “one could imagine the classy East Side dealers racing downtown, shredding their ties and tossing their papers of provenance to the wind” A book which might only appeal to those who move within art world circles, An Object of Beauty is also a tale of unrequited love as it is told from the point of view of Lacey’s former lover. This lends the story an endearing sense of tenderness as Daniel recalls Lacey’s trajectory from the sidelines – at times bitter, at times lovelorn and nostalgic – and this approach evokes a real emotional response.

The book itself book is exquisitely produced, with no less that twenty-two full colour reproductions of the works referred to in the text, drawing the reader further into the story and although Martin is himself an avid collector of modern and contemporary art, he has clearly conducted extensive research on the subject of An Object of Beauty. I highly recommend it.

Róisín Lacey-McCormac

Boxing Films with underdogs from the wrong side of the tracks aren’t exactly rare, but David O. Russell (I Heart Huckabees) has managed another excellent addition to the genre, thanks mostly to a terrific cast. The Fighter is based on the true story of “Irish” Micky Ward (Mark Walhberg), a boxer from Lowell, Massachusetts as he struggles towards a boxing world championship. In his hometown, Micky is overshadowed by his charismatic, but crack-addicted older brother and trainer Dicky (Christian Bale), himself a former boxer.

Russell avoids Rocky-eque clichés through focusing on Micky’s poisonous family life.

Aside from his trainer’s addiction, Micky must also contend with his manipulative mother (Melissa Leo) and seven amusingly malicious sisters. When not haranguing Micky about how best to manage his boxing career, his mother and sisters spend their time spitting venom at his new girlfriend Charlene (Amy Adams) and idolizing his older brother.

While Dicky smokes crack to escape his life and indulge in nostalgia, Micky is slowly having the shit kicked out of him, not by an opponent, but by his relatives.

But where this film is really outstanding is the performances. Christian Bale has been getting the most attention for yet another astonishing physical transformation. But Bale also captures the pithy Boston dialogue and delivers it with such a bouncy exuberance that you can’t help but like the character, even when he’s doing something despicable. Melissa Leo is also exceptional as the robust but contemptible mother of the Ward clan. With her platinum dye job, short denim skirts, steely glint and jaw constantly clenched around a cigarette, Leo would have strutted off with the film had she not been matched by Bale.

But the man who probably deserves the most praise is Mark Wahlberg. But as Christian Bale said in his Golden Globe speech “you can only give a loud performance when you have a quiet anchor” and here Wahlberg shines as that anchor. Understated and contemplative while everyone else explodes around him, Wahlberg’s turn is one of quiet triumph. Alex Towers

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II.2

angels of darkness, demons of light Earth Music Often praised for its commitment to

Music Bearing in mind that music, like all art

forms, is, in both creation and appreciation, inherently introspective, do not be discouraged when I say that Earth’s music is far more subjective than most. In short, you either get it or you don’t. No middle ground.

At their outset in the late 80s, often harshly but always excitingly, Earth pushed the boundaries of what could be called music, though they’ve come a long way since. From the lulling, monolithic feedback of Earth 2, through the fuzz-drenched Sabbath nods on Pentastar, Earth arrived at the minimalist post-rock of 2008’s The Bees Made Honey in the Lion’s Skull. These old dogs had learned some new tricks. The new record clearly picks up where Bees left off. The formula is still the same - sluggish tempos, sparse but melodic guitar, and complimentary bass - but where its predecessor drew on country and blues, Angels of Darkness borrows from jazz and folk. The substitution of organ with cello, morphing from cinematic strings to dying keyboard, adds further depth to the album’s subtle evolution.

The sound is akin to Nick Cave & Warren Ellis’ film scores, or a synth-less, instrumental Shine on You Crazy Diamond. Like The Xx did with pop music, here Earth use space and restraint to fill songs with emptiness. It’s a rewarding listen, but it takes its time before paying off. Gheorghe Rusu

II.1

napa asylum Sic Alps

24

brevity, lo-fi doesn’t produce that many double LPs. But then, Sic Alps have always had that element of old soul about them, the oily smell of a 60s garage rather than whatever a suburban boy’s bedroom smells like.

And furthermore, there might be twentytwo distinct songs here, but they average out to only a little over two minutes each, so even if your ears hurt, you’ll be excused long before the hour.

Time is split in about a 2:1 ratio between trashy, clunking blues, ranging from White Stripesy to more gob-lobbing punk , and softer turns, which tend towards skeletal electric blues but nod to psychedelia too. It’s paced perfectly and full of high points, if you can take the harsher moments.

Karl McDonald

so much time on the biographies of font designers.

With the exception of Eric Gill, the designer of Gill Sans who had sexual relations with his sisters, daughters and dog, the lives of font designers are spectacularly uninteresting. His focus on biography betrays an inability to really engage with fonts in and of themselves.

Garfield is not a particularly thoughtful writer, and the overwhelming majority of the ideas expressed in this book are not his own, but those of font designers which he has drawn from books and interviews. A sometimes engaging, it might have been better named Just Their Type. Kevin Breathnach

II.2

Morning Glory Director: Roger Mitchell

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just my type Simon Garfield

Book s Comic Sans is to typography what the grocers’ apostrophe is to punctuation: something people who know a little give out about in order to seem like they know a lot. It’s a tiresome charade, but the very fact that people give out about a font shows how the dawn of the word processor has democratized typography. Font has been around since Gutenberg invented the printing press, but not until recently have books on font been marketable to half-interested, non-font designers such as myself. Simon Garfield’s Just My Type is one such book.

It’s unfortunate, then, that Garfield spends

Film If your looking for a hard-hitting examination of the media’s descent into telegenic treacly sentiment Morning Glory isn’t the film for you. However if the idea of a turtlenecked Diane Keaton dropping beats with Gunit while a sulking Harrison Ford derisively shakes his head in disgust sounds amusing, you might find some enjoyment here.

Roger Mitchell’s lightweight film tells the story of Becky Fuller (Rachel McAdams) who takes an impossible job at deteriorating Morning Show “Daybreak” hosted by the professional Colleen Peck (Diane Keaton) and the perverted Paul McVee (Modern Family’s Ty Burrell). In an attempt to compete with The Today Show, Becky ropes in veteran News reported Mike Pomeroy (Harrison Ford) to replace McVee and hopefully fix the show’s ever-worsening ratings.

Morning Glory just about manages to steer itself away from rom-com territory by focusing on Becky’s workload struggles. Casting McAdams was crucial though as it’s hard to imagine another actress pulling off Becky’s perky, shrill luminosity without it being annoying. Harrison Ford is also good value as the grumpy geezer who’s “too good for this shit” and Keaton shows she could easily fill in for Meredith Vieira. This all means that while Morning Glory is fluff, it’s entertaining fluff.

Alex Towers

How to…

guilt y pleasures

meet people you went to secondary school with but haven’t seen in 5 years

by Seán Mc Tiernan

one Don’t stare at how fat they are, no matter who gigantically, cartoonishly fat you think they’ve become. A lot of sporty people stop exercising , drink a lot when they get to college, eat like shit once they move out of their Mam’s house and so, by the time you meet them, they’ll look like grotesque, implausible photoshops of how you remember them. In reality, they are just normal fat people so you can just go ahead and treat them with the regulation amount of condescension you reserve for all of the tubby race. They either won’t have noticed they’ve ballooned out to a great size or else it’s all they’ve noticed for the past four years and will immediately and aggressively engage you about it. I still can’t figure out which one is worse (to either do or have done to you). t wo The only common ground you’ll have will be other people you went to school with and how farcially stupid you both feel they and their life decisions are. This is the only thing that hasn’t changed since secondary school.

This sounds like it’d never work in actual conversation, but just start throwing out the second names of whoever you can remember and then raising your eyebrows.

Depending on the tenor in which the news about this person is delivered, you can decided whether to pile them with praise or scorn. three If you went to school with a grip of Evangelical Christians, lots of the harmless quiet ones will have gotten married. Whatever you do, do not let this conjour an image in your mind of them have desperate, awkward and paralysingly dissapointing sex, weeping and then making a mental note that their youth councillor was right and it is merely a mechanical process to produce more Evangelical Christians. It will totally bum you out. four That really hot girl had a kid with an idiot and now looks like her mam. Steel yourself for this news in advance. five Worse than ex-jock fat people are ex-nothing Achievers. People who faded into the background at school who have suddenly “blossomed”, as their therapists inevitably phrased it, into people who want to push their meagre achivements in your face. People who find their niche hobbies once they get to college and then get so excited about making friends they turn that niche hobby into something which defines their life? They’re the worst fucking people alive. When they’re battering you over the head with news of their diet and their rock climbing club, just remember all the times they got publicily humuilated during the only time in life with that Really Mattered. It’ll allay your desire to murder them. six The person you’re talking to has to use all of the above mechanisms to deal with talking to you as well.

And you’ll both be glad when it’s over. Just like school.

That really hot girl had a kid with an idiot and now looks like her mam. Steel yourself for this news in advance.

Judge Judy

by Gheorghe Rusu

Courtroom television in general is on par with things like World’s Fattest Animals and Jersey Shore in terms of lowbrow content and the mostly passivelyminded audience that it attracts. You could of course do a 180 and declare yourself able to enjoy it without the stigma ordinarily attracted to watching tripe, as seems to have been the case with the recent Fade Street phenomenon.

Not me. I like things for what they are. I have More Than A Feeling on my iPod because it’s a fantastic song, not because it’s kitsch. I have no compulsion to justify things, even if they go against the consensus of my peers. But alas, such is the nature of the Guilty Pleasures column.

Judge Judy (the show, not the majestic Judith Sheindlin) is as guilty of exploiting the housewife, unemployed and on-disability demographic as any other court show, but its central figure is what separates it from the pack.

Judge Judy herself is a mesmerising presence, channeling wise king Solomon with his graceful iron fist and dedication to justice. It’s unfathomable to think she’s got the same job as Judge Joe Brown, complacent in his perpetual about-to-fall-asleep facial expression. And that’s before you consider that most of Brown’s participants seem to have lived their entire lives in shack by a swamp and have little grasp on the mechanics of discourse.

In fairness, Judge Judy gets her share of dim backwoods types too, but it’s a small part of a wide spectrum of her contestants. There’s those who, though in the right, won’t shut up; the beyond-guilty parties, there for the benefit of not having to pay the damages themselves (the producers do this) and the detriment of being derided for their blatant, stuttering lies; the predictable people who have seen the show and know exactly what they’re doing.

The creme de la creme, however, are the arrogant, short fused and impossibly dumb. They look like they’ve made an effort to look nice, in shirts and ties tucked into acid-wash jeans. The show’s zenith is Judge Judy heatedly engaging with these people, the shrill, booming voice of reason against a brick wall of stupidity.

Yeah, it’s not Twin Peaks, but it’s thrilling entertainment. It should be beside The Apprentice and those Louis Theroux things in the reality TV hall of fame.

25

Das Capo

liquid football Oisín Murphy

S

port journalism, at its most ‘engaging’, tends to emphasise the mythological aspects of its chosen game. Football, as the most popular sport in the world, is subject to an attendant media discourse which often focuses on the narrativisation of contest. and both foregrounds and fabricates a human theatre simultaneously in marketing and analysing the culture it represents. This ranges from Sky Sports invoking representations of armed conflict that straddle the historical, the mythological and the camp in their advertisements of their ‘Super Sundays’ to the excessive promotion of footballers as ‘characters’, often seeming to be constructed on rather flimsy, superficial signifiers in absence of nuanced analysis of identity or performance. Its darker implications are manifest in the prejudicial branch of commentary that sees foreignness as synonymous with a tendency to cheat while at the same time acknowledging excessively physical play, when partaken in by players of the historical Commonwealth, as something more transcendent and ‘human’ than the habitual gyppery of Latin types.

From the lamentation of Benitez’ ‘crackpot zonal marking’ to the ‘puffball’ Cristiano Ronaldo (credit Eamonn Dunphy), ‘classical’ football analysis harks back to a golden age in which players wore wooden boots, bit the heads off of chickens and dipped their genitals into scotch whisky before matches, maintaining a ‘sporting integrity’ (now lost) through the purity of unarmed combat and a perpetual desire to ‘put it in the mixer’.

While more objective and insightful analysis exists in the shape of independent football magazine When Saturday Comes and sundry organs aggregated online by the excellent (and recently resurrected) Must Read Soccer, it is the colossi of football-as-mythological-combat who dominate the popular discourse. What little ground has been ceded in the nebulous ‘Us vs. Them’ ideological conflict established by Giles, Gray, et al has come as a direct result of the sheer unassailability of FC Barcelona’s current setup, uniting both partisan and neutral in awe; though the tendencies of Messi, Iniesta, Busquets, Xavi, etc. towards simulation and underhandedness (as with any side, successful or not) is often overlooked in the process. In this sense, football-as-media supports itself through the creation and maintenance of mythology and heroic narratives. To what extent this comes at the expense of truth is of particular interest.

From the editorial hijacking of the World Cup as a success for ‘pure football’ when substantial evidence to the contrary is present (Spain, despite smart passing and movement, are the lowest-scoring champions of all time and their stars lent themselves to the various behaviors broadly considered to be ‘not in the spirit of the game’ throughout the competition) and digestible for the neutral observer, to the rather more complex sense of unease one experiences when lauding Barcelona’s predominance in La Liga, the wilful obfuscations of the football media can have an extremely negative impact on the sport as a non-commercial device. So, while Barca’s style of play is to be encouraged from perspectives both aesthetic and of efficiency (a recent Opta statistic 26

‘Classical’ football analysis harks back to a golden age in which players wore wooden boots, bit the heads off of chickens and dipped their genitals into scotch whisk y before matches.

lists Barcelona’s average possession in league matches this season at a finger-banging 74%), it only exists due to profoundly unequal commercial legislation which perpetuates their (and Real Madrid’s) financial inviolability by design.

The admirably socialistic properties of the Bundesliga are paid lip-service but scarcely imitated in England, with ‘deviant’, fan-owned institutions such as FC United of Manchester and AFC Wimbledon existing on the margins of both football as a competitive sport and as an ideological media. Indeed, the German Football Association’s dedication to a more ethical way of operating seems to be more far-sighted than one might give it credit for from a solely economic perspective: the young and ‘homegrown’ German side assembled under Joachim Löw were undoubtedly (along with the unprecedented success of Uruguay) the neutral’s highlight of the 2010 World Cup, functioning as a team better than any other side and making a star of the then 21-yearold Mesut Özil (who, perhaps regrettably, transferred to Real Madrid straight after the tournament) in the process.

Though it may be easy to bathe in the perfume of Barcelona’s inexorable drive for success, which ridicules the notion of competition both on the pitch and at a boardroom level, through the imposition of commercial structures which copperfasten the two-team dominance of Spanish football, the most heartening story in club football is AFC Wimbledon’s (so far) steady move for promotion from the Blue Square Premier to League Two. A team set up and run by its own fans in the wake of Wimbledon FC’s move to Milton Keynes (as MK Dons) in 2004, they represent an equitable and (hopefully) imitable business model built for sustainable growth and the benefit of the community. Football, lest we forget, is an industry as well as a sport, and the two are divorced in our analysis of the game at its peril.

UEFA are now waking up to the reality that years of unregulated and mis-regulated capital in the sport have left us with, introducing ‘Financial Fair Play Rules’ which may, sadly, be too little, too late.

At the same time, a conservative media refuses to adequately investigate the many factors which have contributed to a situation wherein ‘it’s all about the money’ - content instead to bemoan increasingly huge transfer fees and criticise players for their earnings (given that wages are constructed in alignment with profitability, would we prefer to see the ‘silly money’ rest in the hands of club directors?) and often questionable behavior off the field. While perhaps the level of misrepresentation in football journalism is no greater than in that of other sports, let alone other areas of the media, it must be acknowledged as corporate machinery when at its insidious worst. And, indeed, though Eamonn Dunphy is as often wrong as he is right, his entertainingly bilious condemnation of the Premier League as ‘a beautiful illusion built on sand’ so many moons ago seems to have been entirely accurate. As a man who remains perpetually ‘unconvinced’ by Barcelona, one rather hopes it is for ethical reasons.

e r t n e C g n i n i a Tr Magazine

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