UNDERSCORE N°2:THE CONSTANT ISSUE by Stephanie Peh

underscore n°2: the constant issue

CONTENTS epigraph chapter six page 08

neighbourhood n°6 BERKS COUNTY — Nicholas Gottlund page 10

STAGE MATHEMATICS hat brings out the best of 65dos W — Paul Wolinski (65daysofstatic) page 14

MAHESH BHANSALI A man in touch with his humanity — Sam Winston page 16

LIGHT AFTER DARK Ólafur Arnalds’s music reflects hope — Stephanie Peh chapter seven page 22

THE INVISIBLE NEST A traveller’s impression of Chernobyl — Jean Paolo TY page 32

ENTOMOLOGICALLY DISTURBED The effects of unexpected change — Cornelia Hesse-Honegger page 38

neighbourhood n°7 INISHTURKBEG — Nadim Sadek page 42

LAND WITHOUT SHADOWS On Coney Island’s undying spirit — Nguan chapter eight page 50

NO PLACE LIKE HOME A warm and genuine hotel stay — Chauntelle Trinh

page 56

neighbourhood n°8 PUNAVUORI — Lotta Nieminen page 63

FOCUS A personal driving force to stay focused — Sean Lam page 66 conversation n°4

HIDEKI TOYOSHIMA A conversation with a founding member of GM Projects page 74

neighbourhood n°9 PARC BOURGET — Demian Conrad page 76

WILD PERSISTS Visions of living in the wildlife — Christopher Colville page 82

AFFINAGE An appreciation for affineurs — Naz Sahin page 87

A STORE CURATED BY UNDERSCORE page 94

neighbourhood n°10 HASSAN — Tarnima Sabed chapter nine page 98 conversation n°5

DAMIR DOMA On the world he creates with his garments — Samuel Willet

page 106

NEO TOKYO The joys and pains of a thriving culture — Seiya Nakamura page 108 onversation n°6 c

LEE COTTER Fifth Avenue Shoe Repair’s masterful visionaire. page 116

OF VEIN SKIN AND BONE A collection inspired by the human anatomy — Yang Tan chapter ten page 129

NON-PLACES Universal places and their unexpected comfort — Lauren Palmor page 132

EAT, DRINK, CHINATOWN On food from Chinatowns of the world — James Casey page 134

WRITE TO THE LEAVES Landscapes of Northern China — You Li page 142 end note

OUT WITH THE OLD, IN WITH THE NEW Fancy tools for spring cleaning — Stephanie Peh

underscore n°2

editor Justin Long art director Jerry Goh sub-editor Stephanie Peh media & communication Yishan Lam contributing photographer Jovian Lim berlin associate Chauntelle Trinh art direction & design HJGHER distribution Europe Export Press Japan Utrecht Australia Speedimpex For distribution enquires, kindly email to info@underscoremagazine.com advertising For advertising enquires, kindly email to ads@underscoremagazine.com printing Dominie Press publisher H/Publishing paper RJ Paper

contact underscore 75 Jalan Kelabu Asap Singapore 278268 tel/fax +65 6300 8568 email info@underscoremagazine.com website www.underscoremagazine.com featured photographers Christopher Colville Nguan Yang Tan You Li

special thanks 65daysofstatic Anna Wallén Birgit Schmoltner Chris Lee Felix Redecker John Best Jónsi Birgisson Maho Masuzaki Maria Eisl Mike Abelson Paper Rain Pete Spiby Rachel Wythe-Moran Robert Raths Simon Watkins Stephan Wembacher

contributors Alexandre Baron Caspar Newbolt Demian Conrad Dylan Thomas James Casey Jean Paolo Ty Lauren Palmor Lotta Nieminen Nadim Sadek Naz Sahin Nicholas Gottlund Paul Wolinski Pu The Owl Sam Winston Samuel Willet Sean Lam Seiya Nakamura Serifcan Ozcan Tarnima Sabed

issn ISSN 2010-0590 permit number MICA (P) 227/09/2009

underscore © 2010. All rights reserved. Any reproduction without permission is prohibited. The views expressed in underscore are those of the respective contributors and are not necessarily shared by underscore. underscore welcomes new contributions but assumes no responsibility for all unsolicited materials received.

for your information cover image Illustration by Cornelia Hesse-Honegger

Handwriting by Jónsi Birgisson

underscore typeface paper Munken Print Cream is fsc and pefc certiﬁed. music Song selections to accompany your reading pleasure.

EPIGRAPH

Continuing on from the Emptiness theme in our first issue, we felt it appropriate to establish the theme of Constant for this issue as it was important for us to identify why we do what we do. We just want to be better: better at what we do, better at how we live, better at being human. It may seem rather straightforward but it is quite honestly, not simply a conscious decision. We warrior on everyday with ourselves, within ourselves, questioning our every action and process of thought, adjusting what is inside and readjusting to the world around us. We take whatever comes: good/bad, planned/unexpected, while a part of us dies just as another comes to lifeâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;it is a never-ending story of renewal and repair. As keen followers of the notion of wabi sabi, we acknowledge its three simple truths: nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished. It is with awareness that impermanence is an inevitable constant that one chooses how to live. So we choose our pathâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;one with heartâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;and follow through on it; when it is all over too soon, we hope to be able to hold our heads up high. Because we know that nothing is more important than anything else. Justin Long

Beholding the stone castle in stillness, just before approaching.

CHAPTER SIX

NEIGHBOURHOOD N'6 â&#x20AC;&#x201C; PENNSYLVANIA

BERKS COUNTY Text & photography by Nicholas Gottlund

The book house Gottlund Verlag is small. It was built to be that way: a space constructed around a few simple pieces of equipment and the idea that it should breathe, where the separation of indoor and outdoor is made as thin as possible. When you are there in the winter, you can feel the cold that has settled into every object overnight. In the summer, you open the windows upstairs to let the hot air out between folding paper. It is a place where you can hear the trees as they knock into one another in the wind. There is a spring with a roof over it. This hole in the earth is where the water comes from. The snow is falling as I write this. I am looking forward to it warming up again and the snow melting off. In late April and May, we go mushroom hunting for morels. Two elderly sisters living near the creek used to hunt for the mushrooms at night when they thought they popped up. They would put on dark caps and go into the woods with flashlights. In 1981, when my parents bought this place with all the accompanying junk, cars, and land, it was a shell of a long-abandoned log home. In those days, a meadow of bluebells stretched out in front of the house towards the road to town. There was furniture left at the woodâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s edge and it smelled wet in the springtime night. I like to work late through the night. Sometimes taking a light, I would walk up the hill for a break. From high up on top, I can see across the valleys. It is a view that has remained unchanged through so many seasons.

berks county

65daysofstatic â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Piano Fight we were exploding anyway (2010)

stage mathematics

Text by Paul Wolinski (65daysofstatic) Photography by Caspar Newbolt

Post-rock band 65daysofstatic on what it takes to bring out their best in performances and why nothing else has to make sense.

Being in a band that tours a lot is sometimes like listening to an Autechre record. Or experimental jazz. You have a vague idea of what is going on and you are certainly enjoying it (if you like Autechre or jazz), but you are never entirely sure what is about to happen next. You turn up somewhere new each day and spend your time marking out your territory, making the unfamiliar look familiar. The longer you stay on the road, the more things you find to twist your way. At first, when we headed out on mini-tours, we found ourselves opening random bills of bands all around England, sharing stages with dozens of now forgotten acts. The stage wasn’t ours then. You just have to make things work at this point, squeeze your stuff into the corners, play on the floor in front of the stage, balance drum kits on other drum kits. You just deal with it. Later, when you have some success and are able to do your own headline tours in tiny venues up and down the land, you get to own the stage. You become the band that you hated when you were first on—your drum kit, your amplifiers and keyboards—they get to be put exactly where you want them to go and they don’t move unless you feel like being helpful. No matter what country you’re in, no matter what the venue, what shape the actual stage, the mental stage that you have built with your band mates can be draped upon it like a blanket. You get to be intimate with the most ridiculous things—you know how taut the midi cables that run across the stage can be before they’re likely to be pulled out. You learn how to be stage mathematics

able to tell at a glance whether the stage is small enough for your guitar cables to stretch around the back of the keyboards so you’re less likely to trip over them. You know where the sharp edges of your flight cases and amps will be so you don’t jump into them, you work out if it’s safe to take your guitar off without sticking its head into a low-hanging light or through the roof. After being on the road for a long time, something as simple as positioning your guitar pedals ‘ just right’ can give you a sense-of-home as powerful as climbing into your own bed. You know what angle to tilt your monitors so you are able to hear things okay, whether you’re at the piano or dancing about trying to knock your band mate over. This is all subconscious, of course. Choreography isn’t 65’s strong point. It’s just a series of tiny rules and checklists collected show after show, and everyday, without even noticing, you find yourself going through them, turning this cold rectangle of black, sticky wood into the ‘65’ stage. It can make the difference between it being a good show and a great one. If you become even more successful and you’re touring arenas, then you take the actual stage with you. No stage-as-blanket compromises there. There are whole trucks just to carry your carefully marked out bits of wood and scaffolding from one city to another. And of course, you’re the rockstars, so by the time you roll into the venue, the crew have already been there for twelve hours, making it look like a home away from home. It’s no wonder that bands run on stage and say hello to the wrong city. We spent two months opening 12

stage mathematics

up for The Cure around America, playing on the exact same stage each night, and every city, every enormodome—it all looked identical. When we played in Summersonic festival in Japan, they had laser pointers hanging from the ceiling which, when switched on, split the stage into a grid. Because there were two festival sites – Tokyo and Osaka, they couldn’t move the entire stage, so they used measurements from these lasers to build the exact same stage set-up—to the millimetre—for when bands arrived in the second city. Surrounded by failing technology, there have been periods of time where, despite our best efforts, the touring has been so relentless and our samplers or sequencers so screwed up that we were limited to playing the same sixteen songs over and over again. Even if the songs can be switched round, the show ought to have a dynamic. It ought to demand people’s attention from the outset and hold it all the way through. We spend a lot of time rehearsing entire sets rather than individual songs—I think it’s important to know where each song you have works best in the context of a live show. Energy levels, volume levels, we take all this into account when making the show as good as it can be. Unlike a normal circle of friends where everybody has their own lives and experiences, which make meeting up a pleasure because you get to swap stories and learn new things, when you’re on tour, you and your crew live almost identical lives. Every day you follow the

You find yourself building this bubble, your own tiny world on wheels, interacting with fresh faces every day, but which, after a while, is probably impenetrable to outsiders. It is a strange relationship.

same pattern, building yourself a temporary home in new cities, countries, cultures, day by day by day. What comes with this, inevitably, are countless in-jokes, made-up words and made-up languages. You find yourself building this bubble, your own tiny world on wheels, interacting with fresh faces every day, but which, after a while, is probably impenetrable to outsiders. It is a strange relationship. At some point with all of this, you reach a tipping point and after that, ‘movement’ itself becomes a need. Perhaps it’s the band equivalent of ‘sea legs’, like true sailors who have salt water for blood. After a while, being on the tour is the only thing that properly makes sense. Even if you spend fifty-one weeks of the year off the road, that one week of shows makes more sense than the rest of them put together.

We Were Exploding Anyway, the latest album by 65daysofstatic, is out in stores now.

stage mathematics

MAHESH BHANSALI Text by Sam Winston

The purpose of an unassuming man keeping in touch with his own humanity by giving others a chance to see the world.

In some ways my trip to India ended on pretty much the day it began—ended in that sometimes a message can be so glaringly obvious, so flashing neon sign clear that it really doesn’t have to be repeated to be understood. This lesson began to unfold on the first day of my travels and it came in the format of an average looking Indian man called Mahesh Bhansali. On my train journey from Delhi to Bodh Gaya, I sat opposite three very unremarkable Indian men—the only thing that stood out about one of them was that he offered me a lift for the final leg of my journey, which I happily agreed to. Now most people, myself included, bring something to the table. A certain part of us wants to be seen in a particular light and another part of us is looking for things that interest us. As this man was kind enough to offer me a lift, I wanted to find out what he was bringing to the table.

Immanu El – Home they’ll come, they come (2007)

mahesh bhansali

In the car journey, I found out that he is a diamond merchant from Gujarat and runs many different charitable trusts—one of which he was visiting in Bodh Gaya. As he asked me why I was there, I told him about my meditation practice and wanting to visit the Bodhi tree (the tree under which the Buddha became enlightened). I also mentioned my school of meditation being Tibetan Ningma. This turns out to be a coincidence because the project he was running was temporarily housed in a Ningma monastery, where he invited me to visit. The following twenty-four hours were very strange.

Here was someone who didn’t bring anything to the table and it made for the most remarkable meeting I have had.

Within half an hour, I was holding part of a seventyyear-old lady’s eyeball and watching a chuckling doctor as I thought okay, this is normal. Mahesh Bhansali is a rather remarkable person. I was holding the eyeball in an operating theatre that formed part of a field hospital that, over the next twenty-six days, would carry out over twenty-three thousand cataract operations on the poor locals. Over three days, Bhansali houses, feeds and cares for each patient before sending them home with r200. It seems that the money he makes from the diamond trade goes on to fund a staff of two thousand that run many different charitable projects all across India.

would look into the space beyond. It is amazing to witness sight returning to another human being. A gift. It was also a real joy to see the aspirations in my morning meditation being met so immediately in the preceding hours.

Through a mix of enthusiasm and invitation, we agreed it was a good idea that I stayed on for a while.

With the certainty of knowing I was going to make art, I once told my partner that I was going to make books. The remarkable thing about the assertion was not the goal at the end but the conviction I felt towards it. Somewhere beyond knowing, it was a physical feeling that told me this was how things should be. Halfway through my stay with Bhansali, the same feeling aroused again. This time, the assertion was not towards a creative endeavour but towards a more common sense of humanity.

The best way to explain this experience is to maybe describe my first working day. I roused at 3.30am to make my way down to the Bodhi tree where I did my morning practice. The tree itself is surrounded by beautiful marble towers and at four in the morning, with nodding monks chanting in Sanskrit and the mist, it is certainly a place beyond our time. It is not really fit for description except that it is not part of this world.

I mentioned what people bring to the table because after spending a week near Bhansali, I never found out who he was. Even tough by description, a diamonddealing philanthropist, he sounded grand but did not embody any of that. He came across as a simple man who was in touch with his own humanity. He was someone who didn’t bring anything to the table, and it made for the most remarkable meeting I have had.

I would then take breakfast with the doctors at seven in the mess hall and start work soon after. In the infirmary the smell that greets you is that of an old person’s home—it reminded me of my own grandparents that have now gone. As the mornings passed, I began to notice something quite remarkable. As you removed their bandages, you realised that some were all ready to see again. With a mix of fear and joy, they

Somehow, by caring for others, here was a person that was living, as a human should. In the complicated web of our lives he felt like someone who had truly returned home. It was a place that I hope we all have the chance to visit.

mahesh bhansali

LIGHT AFTER DARK Text by Stephanie Peh Photography by Pu the Owl

Ólafur Arnalds’ latest musical expressions mimic the dramatic turns in his life with an underlying tone of positivity and hope.

Icelandic Opera, Reykjavík; May 2010

Ólafur Arnalds – Hægt, Kemur Ljósið ...and they have escaped the weight of darkness (2010)

light after dark

Some types of music cannot be pinpointed or defined with words but have an underlying strength to inspire creativity that resides in the subconscious. Neoclassical musician Ólafur Arnalds’s work is a fine example of such music : moodsetters that fuel the imagination. I conversed with the Icelandic musician while he was home in Reykjavík, where the weather is “never warm and never cold.” Ólafur grew up in Mosfellsbær, a small town with a family-style community. He attended music school when he was five and studied classical composition in the Iceland Academy of the Arts after high school. Although well-versed with multiple instruments, including the guitar, drums and flute, Ólafur mostly utilises the piano in his compositions, “The piano is like home. I feel most comfortable with the piano as it’s the instrument that I know best.” He particularly enjoys the sound of his home piano, a lucky treasure found in an antique shop, “I think the people who owned it didn’t know how good it was. Maybe someone died and they gave it to this antique store without realising that it was actually very precious.” …And They Have Escaped The Weight Of Darkness, Ólafur’s latest album is also a phrase taken directly from an opening dialogue in the Hungarian movie,

Werckmeister Harmóniák. It was the description of a solar eclipse that echoed his feelings for the new album, that there is always light after darkness. He wanted to create a positive album with an emotional journey, revolving around the co-existing feelings of sadness and hope. Like his previous albums, it was left slightly open-ended for the individual’s own interpretation, “I find one of the most interesting aspects of music is how people react differently to it.” Yearning to peek into his world, I hoped to learn of Ólafur’s inspirations, but it was not something he could simply put into words: “Inspiration is not a feeling. It’s knowledge. It is about making everything a thought process more than a spiritual process. Using what you learn and you learn from everything that you have ever done.” Ólafur composes intuitively, out of everything he has ever collected in the process of life and the key to understanding his inspiration lies in his records. Often, the intuitive world of musicians and artists are isolated from the refined versions of their final work. Ólafur bridges the gap by releasing Found Songs, an album in which a track was released daily for a week in early 2009. The tracks were previously forgotten musical attempts, hence the title. Forced to work differently within a limited time span,

light after dark

the result of an unconventional process proved to be worthy. “I think I grew more as a composer that week than I usually do in six months,” says Ólafur. It was through his involvement across genres that opened up the way he wrote, having been involved in heavy metal, jazz or currently, minimal techno side project, Kiasmos. Ólafur became interested in modern classical music at the age of fourteen and was drawn to film scores. It became gradually clear that classical was his main focus, as inspired by Frédéric Chopin, Max Richter or the score of Pan’s Labyrinth. He wanted to make music that people could relate to, rather than music that only people who studied music could understand. Currently composing for his first fulllength film, Ólafur’s take on music’s role in films is to “interact with what is already on the screen and try to say more than what’s already there.” It seems unfair to measure Ólafur’s purpose and success to how his show at The Barbican Hall in London sold out or that he toured with Icelandic heroes Sigur Rós. When asked his perception of success, he relates it to playing his music to people: “The communication from the music is more rewarding than making it itself.” He takes pride in inspiring someone and enjoys the intimate shows

light after dark

with a modest headcount where he feels a connection with his listeners, “These shows are very quiet and the best ones are where you can just hear a needle drop in the room. There is something magical about the atmosphere.” Speaking of special experiences, Ólafur recently orchestrated a rearranged version of …And They Have Escaped The Weight Of Darkness for sixty instrumentalists, who performed with him at a two thousand capacity auditorium in Manchester, England. One need not be at the show to know that it was a breathtaking experience beyond expectations. To term Ólafur’s music as tracks rather than scores would be inaccurate as his music creates layers of worlds and stories. His melodies connect to a pool of emotions deeper than a logical understanding, an indefinable beauty that is unlikely to be grasped. Sometimes the greatest things in life happen when you listen to what your heart says. Ólafur Arnalds does just that in his music.

...And They Have Escaped the Weight of Darkness, the latest album by Ólafur Arnalds, is out in stores now.

“The piano is like home.”

Jónsvaka Midsummer Festival, NASA, Reykjavík; June 2010

light after dark

Hovering over sea, in between forgetfulness and knowing.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE INVISIBLE NEST Text & photogrpahy by Jean Paolo TY

A traveller’s impression of the people living in Chernobyl today, decades after the nuclear catastrophe.

Goldmund – My Neighborhood corduroy road (2005)

the invisible nest

A silence swallows Pripyat—this was what I noticed when I took my first step in the main square. It immediately established where I was: an abandoned city that once housed workers of the Chernobyl power plant and their families. The autumn weather was ready to make its official shift into winter, adding a hue that amplified this atmosphere. Freezing, I walked towards a building that turned out to be the cultural center. Several days earlier, we were visiting small villages around Chernobyl. I recall meeting the youthful mayor of Strakholesie and noticing a long faint scar below her neck. I didn’t think much of it until someone pointed out that it’s probably from thyroid cancer, one of the many health problems from radiation. The mayor’s warm hospitality extended into an invitation to have chai at her office. I could sense her slight nervousness in trying to accommodate visitors, even though an impressive spread of Ukrainian pastries and beautifully lined tea cups crowding her desk should suggest confidence. The cultural center, like many of the other structures within the zone of alienation, was badly damaged from over two decades of no maintenance. The chipped paint created strange cracked pastel patterns on walls, small trees grow from the concrete, and drops of water from damaged ceilings would momentarily interrupt the silence. This was

a unifying trait for the hospital, apartments and schools I visited in Pripyat. In another village, a group of elderly women were huddled together on a narrow bench that leaned against some wooden fences. It was an image of Russian provincial life, or at least how I imagined it. One of them came closer, fascinated by the contrast of my Asian features. She taught me a few foreign words, and then with her arm locked against mine, she pulled me to the direction of her house. With simple gestures, I understood what she wanted, a picture of her standing in front of her home. She was obviously proud of it and the best thing I could do was acknowledge this with a photograph. A rusted birthing chair was in the midst of the thick foliage that guarded Pripyat hospital’s entrance. Upon walking in, I was greeted by a big notice board that stated the last shift timings of the hospital staff. It’s relics like these that illustrate how time stands still in Pripyat and other abandoned villages around Chernobyl. Soon, I wander into the maternity ward and stare at the empty cribs. A strange feeling comes over me as I think about the babies, the very beginnings of a human life that once filled this room. Further away from Chernobyl were towns that we decided to explore. Uninvited, I entered an arts school where some students decided to show me around. A lot of the chilthe invisible nest

the invisible nest

The disaster was concealed by the government. Citizens and the rest of the world were kept in the dark, while the radiation continued to spread for decades.

dren knew Spanish, I couldn’t understand why. But it was an easier language to decipher, and with a few tries, the students and I understood each other. Later on, I found out that a lot of children who were sick from radiation went to Cuba to be treated. I can only assume a link between this and why they had learned Spanish. A teacher let me observe her conduct a sewing class, and when I finally had to leave, one of the kids decided to give me a hug.

I went into Pripyat’s abandoned apartments and cottages scattered in nearby villages. Looting had left these homes virtually void of memory. Once in a while, you’ll see items like shoes or family portraits—these are the last traces of the inhabitants. In a trip to Chernobyl’s power plant, a guide said that the disaster showed both the best and worst in man. The best because people sacrificed their lives to contain the initial blast, and the worst because looters would take everything. I entered apartments where I could still see lonely pegs clipped to strings, and I had visions of melancholic domesticity: a woman hanging laundry on a Sunday morning. Everyone had to be evacuated in a hurry, under the guise that it would only be temporary. The disaster was concealed by the government. Citizens and the rest of the world were kept in the dark, while the radiation continued to spread for decades.

the invisible nest

All these scenes contrast each other. My preconditioned apocalyptic notions are visible in the ghost city of Pripyat and abandoned homes, yet villages around Chernobyl indicate strong signs of human life. Almost like a process: where I expected desolate landscapes but gradually came to see the strength of the people going on with their lives, their humble homes well within the proximity of Chernobylâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a symbol that had taken so many lives and continues its legacy even until today. Here, the Soviet era is preserved; time stands faithfully still. Yet, it is also going through physical and social change. The world views Chernobyl as the worst nuclear disaster in history that should never be forgotten. However, during my last walk through a small village, a friend and I stumbled upon a beautiful lake. The laughter of mischievous children pierced the surprisingly warm air, as I peered beyond the disaster to find myself in the calming presence of life.

01 A woman walks along a pathway in Orane Village. 02 A girl and an elderly woman stand side by side. 03 Baby cribs in the maternity ward of an abandoned hospital. 04 An elderly woman curiously peers into the camera. 05 An elderly man going on about his daily routine. 06 Gas masks scattered all over the floor of an abandoned school. 07 The ferris wheel of Pripyatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s unused amusement park rusting away. 07

the invisible nest

ENTOMOLOGICALLY DISTURBED — Scientific artist Cornelia Hesse-Honegger’s illustrations portray the evolutionary effects of unexpected change.

Uneven antennas, asymmetrical wings and broken exoskeletons—these were just some of the physical state of bugs discovered by Cornelia Hesse-Honegger when she embarked on her research trip to understand the effects of radioactive cloud on insects a year after the Chernobyl nuclear accident. Born in Zurich, Switzerland in 1944, the scientific artist’s interests in mutated bugs begin more than thirty years ago. Over the years, she had collected bugs such as the Heteroptera true bugs and Drosophila fruit flies found in the affected regions, and bred generations of them in her own kitchen just to observe the malformations in their body parts, before painting her findings. These paintings may openly represent a fragile insect world but upon closer examination, the insects appear more powerful than we think. They seemed to have adapted to their irregularities, developing a system of self-sufficiency in reaction to the disaster. The abnormality does not generate a new species as they simply remain different versions of the same kind. Cornelia’s work reminds us of an endangered natural world but amongst the tragic, the insect world remains enchanting, like unexpected beauty stumbled upon in the event of devastation. Illustrations by Cornelia Hesse-Honegger

Dustin O’Halloran – Opus 13 piano solos (2004)

entomologically disturbed

Panorpidae, or scorpionfly, from Reuental, Canton Aargau, near nuclear power plant Leibstadt; both wings on the right side are deformed and the abdomen is blown up. entomologically disturbed

Dolycoris baccarum, or sloe bug from Nusser Alm, found near nuclear power plant Gundremmingen, Germany; the two left wings are disturbed. 34

entomologically disturbed

Carpocoris pudicus, a tree bug from Slavoutich, north of the 30km exclusion zone of Chernobyl; the second, third and fifth section of the right feeler have new mesurements in length, while the fourth section is much too small and light in color. entomologically disturbed

left: Phymatidae, or ambush bug found near nuclear power plant Peach Bottom Plant, Pennsylvania USA; the right side of the abdomen is disturbed and asymmetrically distorted; right: Corizus hyoscyami , or scentless plant bug from W端renlingen, Canton Aargau, Switzerland; left cover wing is short and formed like a balloon, while the wing below is crumpeled. 36

entomologically disturbed

left: Corizus hyoscyami, or scentless plant bug from Krümse near nuclear power plant Krümmel at Elbe River, Germany; behind the middle leg on the left side the metathorax has convertet into a blister; the tibia of the right hindleg is partly twisted; right: Deraeocoris ruber, or soft bug, found near nuclear power plant Gösgen; the wings are uneven in length. entomologically disturbed

NEIGHBOURHOOD N'7 – IRELAND

INISHTURKBEG Text by Nadim Sadek Photography by Dylan Thomas

inishturkbeg

Days begin on Inishturkbeg knowing that the only boundary one has is the shore that surrounds the island. A glance out of the window confirms what to wear. That leads to a contemplation of what to do that day: tend the animals, work the land, fettle the boats, harvest fruit or vegetables, work in the office with its porthole to the world, through which one watches the seagulls vying with crows for mastery of the air, or the elaborate skyscapes the scudding clouds make. If work is too much, then the indoor pool feels like a lifeaffirming challenge to the moody weather. Peter might then arrive at the jetty with freshly caught salmon in hand. A quick chat and scallops mysteriously appear from the bucket in the cabin too. That’s lunch sorted! A stroll around the farm finds Johnny gently contemplating the newborn calf. When we got them, the Kerry Cows were scarce in Ireland—now we have ten of them, each fine-horned and reminiscent of a cow’s shape in an era before they were bred to be mighty beef-givers. Mandy appears out of the orchard and walled garden with mischief in her eyes. “Try this,” she suggests, her twinkling eyes getting my suspicions up—the mustard lettuce leaf predictably blows my head off due to much hilarity. The rest of the day is filled with a visit to a neighbouring island to chat with a fellow islander, or a dash into the mainland to ask Kirstin whether we’re continuing with pure-bred Connemaras from our brood mares, or whether we might try Oriel with them, our new Arab stallion. Life here is an endless interaction between man and nature, diary-based regime and natural rhythm, energy and achievement. There is nowhere else like it: it is a lungful of life.

inishturkbeg

EVERY DRINK IS AN EXCEPTIONAL EXPERIENCE

Introducing yet another interpretation of an ABSOLUT WORLD, a long-term initiative that continues to inspire creative collaborators. This time round, we dive into various worlds defined by our favourite cocktails.

ABSOLUT DRINKS — Adding a twist to cocktail culture The most recent produce of the IN AN ABSOLUT WORLD advertising campaign involves a series of classic cocktails envisioned as worlds and brought to life by the inspirational vision of photographer and filmmaker Ellen von Unwerth. Starring actresses Kate Beckinsale and Zooey Deschanel, each universe was thoughtfully visualized and shot as a tribute to cocktails of great relevance for the past decade to vodka connoisseurs and liquor enthusiasts. The cocktails involved in the shoot include the Bloody Mary, Cosmopolitan, Martini and so forth – each a challenge to both actresses with various roles to embody. “Bloody Mary was a little more sinister and playful,” says Kate, who stars in the crimson still styled with broken mirrors. Costumes and props were utilized to create the different moods as it was not just about capturing an enchanting image, but creating a fantasy world that brings out the spirit of every cocktail. The result is of five print advertisements topped with recipes inspired by a brand new generation of cocktail appreciators. The vodka purveyors have pushed it a little

the absolut advertorial

THE VISIONARIES — Ellen von Unwerth, Kate Beckinsale & Zooey Deschanel further by adding a creative twist to the cocktails. For instance, fruit lovers can adore the refreshing zest of grapefruit from ABSOLUT RUBY RED in a Cosmopolitan or risk takers can further spice up a Bloody Mary with ABSOLUT PEPPAR for the taste of green bell pepper, chili pepper and jalapeño pepper. “No other vodka has as much longevity within both the cocktail and creative worlds, and Drinks is the culmination of our 30 years of bringing collaborations to life, while showcasing the drinks that made the brand a back bar staple,” says Tim Murphy, ABSOLUT Vice President of Marketing.

After a decade of working as a fashion model in the 80s, Ellen decided to relocate behind the camera, bringing about a playful eroticism in fashion photography. She forges an effortless connection with actresses Kate Beckinsale and Zooey Deschanel, as they lend their expertise in artistic expressions to complete the visuals. Besides having a competent team, Ellen also believes in the relationship that she shares with every contributor on set to create results that would impact others. For Ellen von Unwerth, it is always about telling a story with the right emotions, “Every shot is like a different little movie, that’s how I always see my pictures.”

“No other vodka has as much longevity within both the cocktail and creative world.”

the absolut advertorial

LAND WITHOUT SHADOWS Text & photography by Nguan

Coney Island, a narrow four-mile stretch along the Brooklyn seashore possesses an undying spirit that is a muse to many.

During its heyday a century ago, Coney Island’s glittering theme parks and extravagant sideshows made it a symbol of modern culture. “Not to have seen it,” the writer Reginald Wright Kauffman told the nation in 1909, “is not to have seen your own country.” That same year, twenty million visitors flocked to Coney Island, including Sigmund Freud, who declared that it was the only thing in the United States of America that intrigued him. Two American icons: the roller coaster and the hot dog were invented here. Coney Island became widely revered as “the playground of the world.” Then, the Great Depression intervened and the island fell into steep decline. Nevertheless, Coney Island’s storied beach and decaying amusements remained a welcoming escape for New Yorkers requiring affordable respite from the brutal summer heat.

Beirut – Scenic World lon gisland ep (2007)

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Over the years, this beaten-down incarnation of Coney Island created a unique fascination within photographers: a young Diane Arbus stalked its rickety boardwalk with her Rolleiflex, while others like Weegee, Lisette

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Still, nobody who comes here is a stranger. It seems right to seek solace in a place that knows what it means to bruise.

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Model and Bruce Davidson made several of their most iconic images here. Some landmarks from the glory days survived, namely the legendary Cyclone roller coaster, the Wonder Wheel—once among the highest Ferris wheels in the world, and the nowdefunct Parachute Jump, a gigantic red and yellow structure, often playfully called the Eiffel Tower of Brooklyn. Nearly everything else was razed. What could not be easily wrecked is that which continues to make Coney Island one of the most photographed places in the world: its populist, renegade spirit and restless energy embodied by its crazy, romantic revellers, hell-bent on having a good time, especially if it costs them nothing. I first visited Coney Island one late afternoon in July, ten years ago. I had just begun taking photographs and thought I should begin where many others did. The subway ride from downtown Manhattan reached Stillwell Avenue within an hour. At the end of the tracks was Coney Island, which felt like a different world. It was New York, but with her hair let down and the seagulls overhead. I

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was immediately struck by the variety of faces and flesh on the boardwalk and the countless possibilities for photographs they presented, so I eagerly hunkered down to work. As dusk approached, I made my way onto the beach. This was not Malibu or Maui; the sea was a murky brownish green. Even though the island seems carefree when the sun is out, as it sets you do begin to sense that the sand is hiding a broken heart. Still, nobody who comes here is a stranger. It seems right to seek solace in a place that knows what it means to bruise. My pictures of Coney Island are intended as an ode to Coney’s broad embrace and its enduring beauty. They also provide a portrait of New York’s present—since a vast number of Coney Island’s throng are first or second generation immigrants, it is a glance at America’s gloriously diverse tomorrow. Here’s to Coney Island, the once- and future playground of the world.

A Collection of Wooden Furniture by Nathan Yong

www.folksfurniture.com

Passing the fog valley, the terrain disappears into itself.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Text by Chauntelle Trinh Photographs courtesy of Michelberger Hotel

Michelberger Hotel was designed to provide a warm and genuine stay, without compromising on the quality of hospitality. Our Berlin Associate finds out why there is really no other place quite like it. Band Of Horses â&#x20AC;&#x201C; On My Way Back Home infinite arms (2010)

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The eponymous Michelberger Hotel celebrated its first birthday in August this year. Already a local institution in Berlin, the hotel and its unique crew reflect the city’s distinct creative spirit by offering a novel approach to the business of accommodation whilst continuing to experiment with fresh ideas. Situated between the lively districts of Friedrichshain and Kreuzberg, just a stone’s throw away from the last remaining remnant of the Wall, the Michelberger Hotel is creating new stories out of old and forgotten ones. It is a contemporary hotel that looks more like a flea market. The lobby feels like a living room, with its large comfy sofas and assortment of used books. It is spacious enough to give personal freedom, and cosy enough for visitors to never want to leave. The do-ityourself vintage features are intentional, but not at all contrived. The atmosphere is comfortable, quirky and unpretentious. It is hard to tell the guests apart from the staff, as they all seem so relaxed and friendly. The creators pride themselves on the unfinished appearance of the place, which is symbolic of their regard towards change and evolution, and their desire to be continuously ‘under construction’. We ask Tom Michelberger, the man behind the hotel, to share his thoughts on the journey so far. no place like home

It was intended that guests at the Michelberger Hotel should feel like they were putting up at a friend’s place. Tell us about some of the most interesting homes you have visited? Just last week we travelled through northern Italy resting in a small mountain village for lunch. We joined a couple of old South Tirol peasants at their table. Old and single. Without a wife all their lives. They lived on a mountain with people still almost cut off from the outer world. After a couple of glasses of red wine, we offered to take him back to his home, which was a couple of kilometres away. Arriving there was a highly emotional experience. He told us his sad but at the same time happy life story as we drank his self-made Schnaps. His home was a small ancient chalet was given to him as a twenty-two year old by his grandfather, who rejected his daughter and him for a long time, since he was an out-of-marriage baby. The old man was a brutal man, but after his mother died giving birth to him, the grandfather felt guilt and gave him this shed. That was fifty-five years ago. And everything from the pictures at the wall to the bed has the same age. He doesn’t understand why he never found a woman that liked him. He lived his life, had three quality cows 52

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that made his living, and only allowed nice people to visit him. Before we left he told us, that there is only one thing in his life that he regrets, or a wish, “I wish I would have at least one illegitimate child.” Homes have a story. And the story makes the quality. Apart from being a comfortable and homely place, what other factors contribute to the ‘new typology of a hotel’? What experiences put forward your unique brand of hospitality? Typology is not a word I would use. Everything that is built by characters with a passion, not driven by money, but by creating something original that comes out of themselves. Something that cannot be copied. The hotel is an extension of us, like our own flats. It is a tribute to Berlin. And the way we manage it is a tribute to how we think good business should be done. If you want to nail it down, it is a family hotel with people not bound together by blood but by the same motivation. We built room types tailored to what we believe are modern travel constellations: small families, a group of friends, single business people, or artists on the road. Our hotel has elements of friends’ hangout, of a concert stage, of design-loving, of luxury, of life on a budget, of a place that wishes to be a gate to the city. Not a replaceable island within.

Berlin is the capital of Anti-Establishment. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s about the content, not about the frame. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the charm.

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How do you feel about the gradual change that is happening in Berlin and the sudden influx of creative immigrants over the years?

With its unpredictable culture, there is hardly an uninteresting day in Berlin. What itinerary would you plan for a visiting friend?

I love it. Like every big city, Berlin has something that no other place has. The longer you are here the more you understand it.

· To Prinzenbad on a hot summer day. That’s where all Kreuzberg meets, in two ugly big swimming pools. All you see is Kreuzberg people. It’s colourful: a few small town gangsters, big families on holiday from the city.

Places like our hotel express this spirit. And I really wish that more investors trust what they find, see and experience here and build on it. Instead of copy and pasting things you find in any other major city. This is why those immigrants feel inspired to come and stay here. The comparisons with New York are ambitious, but on a smaller scale, Berlin has the chance to constantly move into new areas, while increasingly building a stronger economic base. Without immigrants there is no change. And Berlin plays and incorporates change in every aspect. Because it is not about owning buildings or apartments here in Berlin, it’s about putting life into spaces. It’s not about holding on, it’s about accepting change and moving on with it. Berlin is the capital of AntiEstablishment. It’s about the content, not about the frame. That’s the charm.

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· To Restaurant Gino’s in Wrangelstrasse. Best spätzle in town. An Austrian/German kitchen. Affordable, comfortable with good people. · To sit in front of the twenty-four hour Turkish Bakery or the Burgermeister at Schlesisches Tor. People watching in the middle of one of Berlin’s most happening areas. The Michelberger hotel building was a former factory. You retained some of the original interior elements and mixed them with precious collectables found. What are some of the more interesting features? Anja Knauer and Sibylle Oellerich, our interior stylists, searched flea markets and house sales for things that carry a story. The little pictures on the wall from old family albums, the grandma-knitted kitchen napkins,

used books in our book walls, the painter’s studio chairs. The walls where we left the different layers open show the different layers of paint that the building collected over the past hundred years. What were the main inspirations or influences? Whatever we saw in our lives influenced our creative decisions. We approached everything very raw and virgin-like. We thought about things like it was for the first time. Doing things for the first time has magic to it. I would recommend to anyone planning to build a hotel, to not look at what or how others do it, but to concentrate on what’s within them. Have there been regular guests or interesting personalities you have met? That is probably the most precious thing about being a part of a hotel. Every day you have new people coming your way. Sitting in the bar at night, meeting the regulars and talking to new ones. Talking about ideas or just having a beer.

You didn’t miss out on anything. As long as you stop by here someday, at least once. The Michelberger collective is all about a way of doing things. What is your next intention? We are working on many different ideas. At some point, one will be ready to go. So far, they all don’t have anything to do with another hotel. Another hotel would be too boring, probably because now we know how to do it. Finally, could you please share with us your perception of ‘Constant’? It’s something reliable. A private reference. An inner beat, my trust for my friends and in myself. It’s a base that helps us handle all this change around us. The stronger it is, the more you are able to do and give. But in another way, life itself is the only constant in life.

The hotel is also known for its ‘Baustelle parties’ that have helped to build its local network. What are some of the great parties we have missed? no place like home

NEIGHBOURHOOD N'8 – HELSINKI

PUNAVUORI Text & photography by Lotta Nieminen

I got my third bike two summers ago. A Jopo—a black, rusty women’s bike, had been lying in my ex-boyfriend’s inner courtyard in Punavuori before he moved in. One summer, he finally cut the chain and adopted the abandoned bike. After two weeks of fixing, it was mine. A luxury rather than a necessity, this bike slowly changed the way I experienced my neighbourhood. Centrally located, with a rather seedy reputation a mere two hundred years ago, Punavuori had developed into a collection of boutiques and restaurants catering to a trendy crowd. Street-level design studios, bars and pastel coloured apartment buildings had replaced brothels and beer houses. A past that gave the gentrified district an edge had lured a young population frequenting local second-hand stores. Punavuori might be an idyllic setting to commute on two wheels, but the cobbled stoned streets are certainly not biker-friendly. Nevertheless, the bouncy ride never showed in the number of steadily increasing bikes. Seas of vehicles clutter the entrances of local eateries for Bar Nr. 9 salads and Bali Hai burgers. The highpitched cries of seagulls (consequence of a maritime location) are surmounted by tramways clattering past at tight frequency, carrying local commuters and occasional tourists through the district. My adopted bike would take me to cafés, restaurants and accompany me home from Punavuori’s hipsterpacked bars or accidental after-parties held at dawn. Tired of walking and hungry to death, a bikeless friend and I cruised the streets on one bike: I sat on the saddle while he pedalled. Too drunk to remember the importance of a helmet or the traffic code, we were most concerned about finding long-craved French fries. The pedestrian street earlier walked down by young families and locals returning from work had changed into a sea of broken bottles, relics of an eventful Saturday.

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OVER SPACE AND TIME To be beautiful to behold and offer pleasure in everyday use across generations, to be exemplary in material and construction with every care and consideration for the planet. When we ask this of furniture, we wonder; is this all possible today? As purveyors of design classics in a world of pressing environmental demands and changing consumer values, Space have supplied appreciative design aficionados in Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Singapore and Kuala Lumpur with fine furniture since 1993â&#x20AC;&#x201D;people who share a desire for beauty and lasting function. We sit with Mr Syddal Wee, general manager of Space Singapore, as he addresses the issue of timelessness in design and why it is fundamental to the business of furniture retail today.

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What has remained constant, throughout the history of Space? Timelessness in design and the durability of our products have been the two key constants in our business from the outset. We term our products as design durables. Our products have been designed as early as the 20s, and the modernist era of the 50s and 60s when many great designs were conceived. They are still highly sought after today, across changing times, tastes, climates and geographical contexts, due to their timeless aesthetical appeal and unparallel quality. What makes furniture timeless? The merging of evergreen design with top notch quality. Pieces that fully embody this are the Flos Arco lamp designed by Achille and Pier Giacomo Castiglioni; Cassina lc collection designed by Le Corbusier, Pierre Jeanneret and the space advertorial

Charlotte Perriand; Carl Hansen Wishbone chair designed by Hans Wegner, and Fritz Hansen Egg and Swan chairs designed by Arne Jacobsen. What design and business values govern the choice of products and brands you carry?

The brand partners we work with and the products they carry must reflect our brand philosophy. We believe the quality of the purchase should match the quality of the experience in every one of our design stores. Our benchmark for excellence is to provide the worldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s

We believe In the connection between quality of design and quality of life. That designers and innovators have the power to shape and improve our world. In showcasing only the very best design from around the world and supporting brands who devote themselves to excellence. In people who are passionate above all else. In authenticity. Good design is eternal. Life should be lived without compromise. â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Our Brand Philosophy

most desirable designs matched with the highest level of service, from beginning to end. What are your aspirations in regards to sustainable technology and practices? That consumers would base their purchase decisions on factors relating to sustainability issues and be mindful of the ecological aspects of the manufacturing process. Products with model benchmark practices worthy of mention are the Carl Hansen Wishbone chair and Fritz Hansen Series 7 chair. In the production of the Wishbone chair, the trees sourced are strictly from Danish forests that are properly managed by a forest manager with a strategic plan of replanting to ensure sustainability. With the Series 7, the technology of combining steam-moulding with ultrasound-moulding ensures that the chair is produced with maximum durability and minimum wastage.

People are turning their attention towards craft, comfort, quality of life, towards the design history and provenance of the furniture object. How does Space define luxury? Spaceâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s priorities have not shifted or been redefined as these topics of craft and heritage have been reflected in our products ever since the incorporation of Space. We have always been positioned as a design lifestyle resource centre. Luxury is then derived from the enjoyment of our products. What is the desired experience for the consumer and everyday user who inhabits the world imagined by Space?

gevity play in the purchasing decisions of your customers? Throughout our history, there has been a continuous focus on economic growth in Singapore. The prevalent obsession with new things is unsurprising as it is associated with progress. An appreciation of the past was uncommon. This has increasingly changed as the level of affluence here matches that of developed countries. The role of longevity grows to be important in the purchase decisions of customers, as they are looking for value-for-money products. These are the design durables that we sell.

The desired experience is a 21st century lifestyle reflecting values associated with sustainability and protecting the environment that we live in. Obsolescence is a recurring theme in societies like ours. What role does lonthe space advertorial

Sustainable and renewable sources such as the Frijsenborg Forest provide the dense hardwood that is steam-bent into the chairâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s frame.

Designed by Hans J. Wegner in 1949, the Wishbone Chair is one of the first models created specially for Carl Hansen & Son. In production ever since 1950 to the present day, it is last in a series of chairs Wegner designed that were inspired by antique Chinese armchairs.

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The ergonomic curves of the gently-rounded back frame create a variety of comfortable seating positions ideal for dining or lounging.

Skilled craftsmen at work in the Carl Hansen factory in Aarup, Denmark. Through skilled joinery of parts, the chair is constructed without the use of nails.

Resilient paper cord is weaved into the intricate design that forms the Wishbone chair’s distinctive seat base.

The characteristic “Y” provides comfortable back support and stability to the steam-bent top.

the space advertorial

Space launched its first showroom in Sydney in 1993, quickly establishing the benchmark for design retailing in Australia. The first Space showroom in Asia started operations in Singapore in 2001. Since then, the company has developed into South East Asia’s largest and most progressive retailer of contemporary design.

In May 2008, Space Singapore in collaboration with Kartell Italy opened the first Kartell Flagship Store in South East Asia. The 1,000 ft 2 showroom in Singapore along the Orchard Road shopping belt showcases an extensive range of collections that include perennial favorites as well as the latest from the Milan Furniture Fair.

Today Space has five purpose-built showrooms in Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Singapore and Kuala Lumpur, each with architect-designed interior environments that represent the quality and rigour of the furniture collection.

Space is a market leader in the furniture retail business. In 2011, Space Singapore celebrates the launch of its first standalone store in Singapore’s Civic District. This is envisaged as the Group’s new Flagship store and positioned as the Asian design hub.

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FOCUS Installation by Seam Lam

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CONVERSATION N'4

HIDEKI TOYOSHIMA â&#x20AC;&#x201D; A conversation with a founding member of gm projects on the importance of storytelling.

The exhibition spaces that Hideki Toyoshima designs remind us of childhood memories, dreams and visions. While the world revolved around sleek whitewashed minimalism, he built little rustic houses, resembling mushrooms popping out in deep forests. His approach to every one of his projects is unique as he seeks inspiration from the individual elements of each show. Previously, as one of the founding members of graf in 1993, he ran the arts and cultural branch, graf media gm. Today, he runs gm projects â&#x20AC;&#x201C; a team of members working individually, where he continues to investigate relationships between the subject and its surroundings. Translation by Jerry Goh Coordination by Maho Masuzaki Photographs courtesy of gm projects

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Yoshitomo Nara + graf; Tower of Malaga, 2007 Photograph courtesy of Hako Hosokawa

hideki toyoshima

Hi Hideki, can you introduce yourself and tell us more about your role in gm projects?

自己紹介をお願いします。gm projects での役割りも教えて下さい。

I am Toyoshima Hideki, one of the founding members of graf. The direction of graf media had been formed since the start of graf and last May, graf media left graf and became independent. gm projects consists of 7 members and all of us share an equal position—we are all directors. The company runs in the form of llc(Limited Liability Company)—depending on each project’s requirement, we may form a team or we may have just one person execute it.

豊嶋秀樹です。グラフの創設メンバーの１人で、グラフ時代に graf media を立ち上げ、ディレクションしてきました。昨年 5 月に、その graf media がグラフから独立するかたちでgm projects となりました。gm projects は、参加メンバーの７人全てが上下関係なく同じ立場です。全員が社長です。会社の形態としては「合同会社 ( llc)」をとりました。プロジェクトによってチームを組む場合もあるし、１人でやる場合もあります。

You have studied at SF Art Institute and Chelsea College of Art & Design before. Even so, we have always felt this Japanese sense of authenticity and aesthetic from your projects. What is your inspiration? Japanese aestheticism is not particularly my conscious decision while creating, but rather I am more influenced by bricolage way of thinking, or using something already there as my materials. It is a bagworm-like process. A bagworm uses something already there— leaves—as materials to build itself a wonderful home, the colour of its home may vary depending on the colour of its host plants’ leaves. Same goes for the way I approach my projects, which you could compare them to a curry dish that is prepared by a chef or a mother. Before cooking, a chef has a recipe that decides on the procedures and ingredients needed, whereas a mother uses any materials she can find from a fridge and cooks them with instant curry paste. Sometimes her curry ends up as stew. As long as this dish is delicious, healthy, and fun to eat, it doesn’t matter whether it is curry or stew. Interesting idea of something already there. However, having exhibited in so many cities around the world, have you encountered any difficulties while designing a space? Please share with us some interesting experiences you have. Material, budget, as well as people are all elements that would affect the outcome of a project. Furthermore, when asking myself “what should the material be?” my answers are affected by events and on-going happenings around me, and my personal memories. All these elements could very well be what I meant by something already there. 68

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サンフランシスコ・アート・インスティチュートとチェルシー・カレッジ・オブ・アート・アンド・デザインを修了されていますが、あなたのプロジェクトからは日本の真正性と美意識の感覚を感じます。あなたのインスピレーションとなるのは、どんなもの？どんなことですか？特に「日本」を意識しているわけではないですが、「そこにあるもの」を素材としたり、「ブリコラージュ」という考え方に影響をうけました。「ミノムシ」のようなプロセスです。ミノムシは、周りにあるものを適当にひっつけて素敵な家を造ります。そこにあるものが枯れ葉なら枯れ葉で、カラフルな糸くずならカラフルな家を造ります。僕のプロジェクトのプロセスは、シェフのカレーとお母さんのカレーの作り方の違いのようでもあります。シェフのカレーは、あらかじめしっかりとした完成イメージがあり、決まった素材、決まったレシピで決まった味をつくります。お母さんのカレーは、冷蔵庫の中ややスーパーで肉や野菜を見つけ、家の戸棚にカレーのルーを入れてカレーができます。戸棚にたまたまあったのがシチューのルーだとそれはシチューになったかもしれません。美味しく、楽しく、健康に食べられれば、それはカレーでもシチューでもどっちでもいいのです。『そこにあるもの』を素材とするという考え方が興味深いのですが、世界中のあちこちで展覧会をする中で、会場構成において難しいことに遭遇したことはありますか？具体的な事例があれば教えてください。『そこにあるもの』というのは、材料はもちろん、そのプロジェクトに関わる人、予算など全ての要素のことです。そういった全てのものが作品やプロジェクトに影響します。「プロジェクトの材料は何か」という質問に答えるとしたら、進行中での出来事、ハプニング、思い出なども含みます。そういうすべてのモノやコトがプロジェクトの結末に影響していて、それらはすべて、「そこにあるもの」と言えます。物理的な材料の話をすると、yng のプロジェクトでは主に家屋などに一度使用された材木の廃材を使用しているのですが、

Nene Tsuboi; Perspective, 2009 Photograph courtesy of Takehiro Goto(Yukai)

In terms of physical material, for yng projects, we mainly use timber and wood from dismantled houses, which are actually difficult to attain; in Japan, when a house is dismantled, almost everything is sent to be scrapped, instead of being reused or recycled. Conversely, the Dutch are the most advanced in recycling timber. In The Netherlands, there was a shop-like department store of waste timbers. We knew about your work from A to Z Projects with all the little huts you built. In your various projects you also often deal with space. What kind of process is involved when you design a space? I always form a single story to tell for an entire exhibition space. I see it as a stage, and the artists and exhibits are actors and actresses on this stage. I, as a producer of this play, curate all these elements into one story. I get in touch with each actor and actress and get to know their characteristics, in order to find new possibilities and dynamics to explore further. We particularly like the idea of gm ten’s Project Room and Akichi Records, it is what we try to achieve with this

このような廃材が一番手に入れるのが難しいのが実は日本なのです。日本では、家屋を解体する時に、ほとんどスクラップしてしまい、再利用するという産業がないのです。逆に、材木の再利用がもっとも進んでいたのがオランダでした。オランダには、僕らにとって廃材のデパートのような店がありました。たくさんの小屋を建てた「A To Z」展で私たちはあなたの仕事を知ったのですが、他にもさまざまなプロジェクトで会場構成を手掛けられています。どんなプロセスを経て、会場空間をデザインされているのでしょうか？展示空間全体でひとつの物語ととらえらるような構成を心がけています。展覧会を舞台ようにとらえると、作家の作品は俳優や女優であり、僕は演出家のように全体の物語を再構成します。それぞれの俳優や女優の個性を引き出し、個性同士が出会い、新しい可能性を見いだせる場をつくりたいと考えています。私たちは特に Project Room と Akichi Records のアイデアが好きです。私たちがこの雑誌を通して達成したいこと—同じ感覚、志を共有できる人たちを集めること—だと思うからです。 gm projects を通してあなたが達成しようとしていることは何ですか？ hideki toyoshima

Our intention is to create a popular and vibrant “akichi” of our own.

magazine as well—to gather like-minded people. What are you trying to achieve with gm projects? Akichi Records’s idea came from a childhood memory when we used to play at “akichi”(a vacant land that act as a playground for kids). Some “akichi” are popular, some are deserted; with gm ten, Akichi Records or any gm projects’ activities, our intention is to create a popular and vibrant “akichi” of our own. Will gm projects be a continuation of your belief when you founded graf, or will it be the start of something new? graf has been running for more than 10 years and we have had many experiences that we could not have imagined when we started it. However, as the company grew, more time was spent as a manager running the business rather than as a creative; it became increasingly difficult to concentrate on projects and many goals were not achieved. For this new start, I see gm projects as a departure of a collective of small boats from the large ship called graf. So, now that you are sailing on the small boats of gm projects, what are you busy with currently? For this summer I have designed a space in Art Tower Mito Contemporary Art Gallery for a manga-related exhibition, which is planned to tour overseas afterward. At the same time, we had been working with sculptor Atsuhiko Misawa on some large scale installations for the Aichi Triennale that will be held at Aichi Prefecture. I am also a director for Iwaki Ensoku, an excursion trip at the prefecture of Aomori. In September, the exhibition Yoshitomo Nara: Nobody’s Fool will be held at Asia Society New York and it will showcase some new works from yng. 70

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アキチレコードのアキチは、子供の頃に遊んだ空き地のイメージから来ています。空き地はいろんなところにありますが、不思議と人気のある空き地と、人気のない空き地があります。gm ten や gm projects の活動は、人気のある空き地をつくるようなものだと思っています。

gm projects において、graf を設立したときのあなたの信念は継続していますか？それとも、gm projects は新たなことのスタートという感覚ですか? graf として１０年以上活動して、始めた頃には想像できないくらい多くの経験をしました。しかし、一方でできなくなっていったこともたくさんありました。会社が大きくなると、クリエティブに使う時間よりも経営者として頭を悩ませる時間が多くなってくるものです。 gm projects では、まだ始まったばかりですが、もし graf を大きな船だとすると、小さな船の集まりのようなものです。「小さな船」で出航した今、あなたが取り組んでいるプロジェクトはどんなものですか？この夏取り組んだプロジェクトは、水戸芸術館で開催され、その後、海外へも巡回を予定しているマンガの展覧会の空間構成をしました。同じくこの夏に、愛知県で始まったあいちトリエンナーレには、彫刻家の三沢厚彦さんとチームを組んで大きなインスタレーションを制作しました。あと、「岩木遠足」という青森で開催された遠足のような企画のディレクターもやったばかりです。９月にはニューヨークのアジア・ソサエティーで開催される奈良美智展で展示する yng の新作を制作しています。

graf から、奈良美智氏との仕事、gm projects 、そして今年の愛知トリエンナーレも含めて、いつも観客のどきどきするような体験を完成させる空間をデザインされていると思います。これまで、あなたのビジョンに変化はありましたか？ずっと変わらないビジョンがありますか？

From graf to Mr. Yoshitomo Nara to gm projects to the coming Aichi Triennale, you design a space to complete an experience and to create an escapade for your audience. Throughout the years, has anything about your vision changed, or has it remained unchanged since day one? Since leaving graf, I have been planning to work on my personal projects. Though I have yet to get a better picture of what the end results are, they will definitely be “returning to myself”. Thus far these have been public projects, although what I really want to complete is my own private projects. It seems like you share a close relationship with the artists that you work with. What are the core elements that you always try to understand when approaching a brand new project? What is it about an artist’s work that intrigues you the most? I think it is mostly important to meet and get to know the artist better. Instead of looking for an artist to collaborate with, interesting ideas for projects often spur after I meet up with him/her. In a collaboration, I work towards a project that either one of us would not have been able to, or never get around to it. Rather than one’s works, I am more interested about his/her personality, thinking, and lifestyle. It is definitely important to work with someone who shares the same visions and one whom you can trust. Could you tell us more about the process taken when you work with Nara? Before we build the huts we meet up for some brainstorming sessions, and we would sketch out the images in our heads. Then Nara starts drawing his works, and we(gmp team) start building huts. Finally, we modify the huts to blend them into the

graf をやめてから、個人での作品制作も行おうと思い、動き始めています。まだ見せられる状態ではないですが、（みせるかどうかわからないけど！）自分自身に戻っていく作業です。今までのプロジェクトパブリックなものがほとんどだったので、それとは逆に、プライベートなプロジェクトもやっていきたいと思っています。あなたは一緒に仕事をするアーティストととても近い関係を築いているようにみえます。いつも新しいプロジェクトを始める際に核となる要素はなんですか？また、アーティストの作品のどんなところにあなたの興味はそそられますか？出会いが一番大きな要素です。「こういうプロジェクトがしたい」からアーティストを探すのではなく、「アーティストと出会った」から面白いプロジェクトが始まるのです。そして、僕の役割は、そのアーティスト達と彼ががいままで１人ではやってこなかったこと、できなかったことなどをともに作り出すことです。アーティストの作品よりもむしろ、アーティストの人柄や考え方、生き方などに興味を覚えます。同じビジョンを共有し、信頼できる相手と仕事をすることはとても大切で、その点でも、あなたと奈良美智さんの間の関係性はとても貴重なものだと思います。奈良さんと創作活動をするときの創作プロセスについて教えて下さい。一連の小屋の作品では、アイデアをお互いに出し合って、「なんとなくこんな感じ」というスケッチを描きます。そして、奈良さんは絵を、僕たちは小屋を制作します。最終的には、展覧会場で様々なアイデアを追加したり、時間の許す限り、改造してみたりします。ひとつの展示が完成したら、また次のプロジェクトの下見や制作で再会します。目的地を決めないバックパッカー同士が旅の先々で出会っては別れ、それぞれの道を行き、また別の場所で再会するような、そんな気持ちです。

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exhibition venue; and if time permits we would also expand on our designs.

70年代の大阪はあなたにとってどのようなものでしたか？あなたが育った町についても教えて下さい。

Upon the completion of an exhibition, we split only to meet again for our next project. No promises or decisions are made. To me, it feels like two backpackers who part on their own ways, and reunite later in another destinations.

大阪の郊外の新興住宅街で育ちました。大阪では70年に万国博覧会が開催され、ベビーブームのまっただ中でした。新しく家を次々と建てるために造成中の空き地が家の周りにたくさんありました。僕たちが仕事を始めた90年代も特徴的で、バブル経済が崩壊し、安定した仕事につくことが難しくなっていた時代でした。今の状況とも似ているかもしれません。しかし、それは、お金のない若者にとっては逆にチャンスのある時代です。安い家賃で自分たちのスペースを持つことができたり、大きな会社に就職することをあきらめて、自分たちでなんとかしてみようという自立心を育んだと思います。

That’s quite a romantic way to put it. Let’s talk about the town you grew up in. What was Osaka like in the ’70s? I grew up in a newly developed area in the suburbs of Osaka. In 1970, World Expo was held in Osaka in the midst of baby boom. There were also many houses being built during the period and you could see construction sites everywhere you went. My generation started our careers in the ’90s when the bubble economy collapsed. It was difficult to find a steady job—much like our current situation in Japan. It was however a good time for young people without money to ‘rebel’. We managed to find apartments with cheap rent, quitted our job at large corporations and started on our own. It was when we trained ourselves to become more independent. Finally, I heard you are crazy about mountains and spending most your time in the mountains lately. Are you looking for new inspirations from the birds and the trees? I am quite addicted to mountain at the moment. It seems to me hiking and art have so many similarities, and “Mountain and Art” seems like a great theme for an exhibition. I will plan something on that.

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最近、山に夢中で多くの時間を山で過ごしていると聞きました。木や鳥からあらたなインスピレーションを得ようとしているのでしょうか？山は今はあくまでも趣味ですが、かなりはまっています。山登りと芸術には多くの共通性があるように思えるので、「山と芸術」というテーマでの展覧会を開催できれば良いなと思って、今、企画しています。

Dream Banquet: Historic Menus and Contemporary Artists, 2008 at Shiseido Gallery Photograph courtesy of Mie Morimoto

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NEIGHBOURHOOD N'9 – LAUSANNE

PARC BOURGET Text & photography by Demian Conrad

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It is nine oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;clock on a sunny Sunday morning and families are starting to take their places in the park of Vidy, a wonderful green dream designed in 1964 for the Swiss National Exhibition. Kids are playing around while their parents are carrying foldable tables and chairs, portable grills and bags full of meat. Like a theatre, there are different levels. The most wanted places are the ones in the shadows of big trees and facing the lake, but you better be early to be sure to get one. By ten oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;clock, the spot is crowded and a second wave of families is coming with umbrellas, taking places in the middle of the grass. Even though there are no signs, it seems like there is a sort of invisible law as everyone is respecting each otherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s space. The kids are now swimming in the clean lake while the husbands are preparing the grill. It is about 11.30am when a big smoke coming from the grills is suggesting to everyone that there will soon be a nice lunch.

by numerous families. A collective garden, the result of low wages and high rents of that area. An average worker in Lausanne cannot afford to live in an apartment with a balcony or garden. Eventually, Vidy Park became an extension of their own homes, a hyper-garden for their enjoyment during spare time. People cook, exercise, play music and relax happily under the wonderful conditions. A variety of nationalities characterise this park, a Babylon of Portuguese, Brazilians, Italians, Spanish and Balkans. Every weekend they share laughter and thoughts with their neighbours living on the other side of the town but sharing the same fifty square metres of a green sunny collective garden. In this natural way, new connections are made and old rituals are broken with the playful intrusion of a balloon.

The park belongs to the town of Lausanne and became a place of entertainment shared parc bourget

Explosions In The Sky â&#x20AC;&#x201C; An Ugly Fact Of Life friday night lights soundtrack (2004)

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WILD PERSISTS Text & photography by Christopher Colville

Visions of living in the wildlife, a mystery to many in this era.

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The world does not become less “unknown” in proportion to the increase of our knowledge about it... Our experience of the world involves us in a mystery which can be intelligible to us only as mystery. The more we experience things in depth, the more we participate in a mystery intelligible only as such... Our true home is wilderness, even in the world of the every day. — Henry Bugbee, The Inward Morning: A Philosophical Exploration In Journal Form I woke up just before midnight, haunted by an encounter with a rattlesnake earlier in the day. The night air was cool, and the Pleiades hung low in the sky just above a petroglyph of a large cat reflecting brightly in the moonlight. To the east, flares suspended from large parachutes floated quietly through the darkness as soldiers practiced manoeuvres, and the northern horizon glowed orange with the lights of Phoenix. I was camping at Sears Point on the Gila River of southern Arizona. Although I was told the Gila had not flowed this far south in eight years, it was waist deep and hundred yards across. I had been here once before. That scorching June night, a friend referred to the spot as the place of dust and myth. As I lay on my cot slipping in and out of dreams, I thought of migrant families crossing the border thirty miles south and of my family seventy miles north tucked safely away in their beds. I was thankful. 78

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The young coyote looked to his pack then back to me once more as if to say, “This is what is real,” then he too was gone.

Early that morning before the sun rose, I listened to yelping cries of a pack of coyotes as they closed in on their prey. My thoughts turned to earlier in the week, when I had encountered a juvenile coyote on an urban trail in the centre of Phoenix. I startled the coyote as he crossed my trail with a stillwarm rabbit dangling from its mouth. He stopped and stared at me with an intensity peaked by fresh kill, and in that moment I thought of Charles Bowden asking, “What is it like to kill with your mouth?” As cars rushed past along the nearby avenue, the rest of the pack vanished into the creosote. The young coyote looked to his pack then back to me once more as if to say, “This is what is real,” then he too was gone. All that remained was a crimson constellation of blood droplets in the sand. Phoenix, despite its population of nearly 4.3 million, is the desert and the wild persists in its heart. I am called by the desert, just one in a long line of travellers hiking condemned jeep roads, following ancient trading paths strewn with shells, points, bones and bombs in search of something that will stop the world. I come to the desert to experience that which escapes language and can only be understood as mystery. I come to the desert to dream.

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Text by Naz Sahin Photography by Serifcan Ozcan

An appreciation for the skills and hard work of affineurs who take pride in the tedious process of nurturing cheese to a state of perfection.

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Affinage, the act of aging cheese, is a French word. It is derived from the Latin word finus, meaning “end,” or an “ultimate point,” that refers to a point in time in which the flavour and texture of the cheese is at its best. An affineur is the diligent confidant, who shepherds his cheese to that particular state. On a rainy day, early spring, I met an affineur in Sprout Creek Farm, Poughkeepsie, New York. Mr. McGrath was a burly young man in good spirits and big rubber boots. As a small group of cheese dilettantes, we followed him into the creamery—a bright, sterile room with cool air that smelled of ammonia. Large tanks in which rennet is added to the milk to form curds were empty at that time. In a smaller, plastic tank, rounds of cheese were floating in salted water. As Mr. McGrath told us about the order of operations: fresh cheese, such as Doe Re Mi, produced with the excellent milk from the farm’s very own pasture-raised herds rested on the shelves right next to us, while the likes of Madelaine, Camus, Barat and Ouray hid behind closed doors in their mouldy moulds, waiting for their prime. “Cheeses have lives: they begin young and bland, they mature into fullness of character, and they eventually decay into harshness and coarseness,” Harold McGee wrote in On Food and Cooking. The affineur’s raison d’être is building the right home for the cheese, from its infancy to adulthood (and hopefully

not through its decline). Starting from the very first moment, he adds the rennet to the milk and cuts the curd, to the very last one before he carves into the ripe mould. The affineur keeps the gentle flow of the air, moisture and temperature at a constant, letting the right kind of bacteria and fungi work their way into the cheese. He handles each mould separately, washes to keep them moist, brushes to let them breathe and flips to distribute the good things happening inside evenly. He does that again, and again for days, weeks, then months. All the hard work to make his cheese: Non Argus nec Helena nec Maria Magdalene Sed Lazarus et Martinus respondens Pondifici! Featured in Cheese, A Global History by Andrew Dalby, the above jingle about the six qualities of a good cheese was taken from an anonymous 14th century Parisian household handbook, Le Mesnagier de Paris. It translates as, “Not Lazarus, not Helen, not Mary Magdalene, but Lazarus and Martin answering back to the Pope.” Dalby explains it furthermore as: “Not white like Helen (of Troy); not tearful like Mary Magdalene; not like (hundred eyed) Argus but blind; as heavy as a bull, and resisting the thumb (as the fat twelfth-century jurist, Martina Gosia, resisted the Pope), and with a mangy coat (like Lazarus’s sores).” These lines simply refer to the perceivable qualities of the faultless cheese, yet as Mr. McGrath guided us through the Sprout Creek cheese sam-

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pling plate, our taste buds were introduced to the complex flavours of earth, flowers and green grass. The cow, sheep and goatherds in this farm spend their time roaming in lush, green pastures, devouring nothing other than what they were made to eat – grass. The milk they give is rich, creamy and unique to the piece of land and the season, hence the cheese. Before we returned to the city, we were introduced to the barn. A couple dozens of adorable baby goats remained the main attraction, until it was milking time for the cows. We waited as the herd strolled down the hill, formed a neat line in front of the barn gates, and proceeded to the milking stations. Pumps started working. Pipes carried the milk to Mr. McGrath. More cheese was to be made. A couple months later, I met another affineur, this time tall and slender, with delicate features and owlish black spectacles. Mr. Anderson took yet another small group of cheese enthusiasts down to the subterranean caves under the Murray’s Cheese Shop on Bleecker Street (a mecca for the cheese connoisseur, that is). The five caves, guarded by solid wooden doors, were accessed through a clean, tiled room on the basement floor that leaves behind the bustle of the store, while keeping in the terrific smell of ripening cheese. Unlike Mr. McGrath who actually gives birth

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to his cheese, one can think of Mr. Anderson as a loving, caring foster parent who gets handed over artisanal unripe cheese. He gives the young mould a new home in one of the five caves, each maintaining a unique temperature, humidity level and airflow. Over the months spent together, he understands and nurtures their needs by washing, brushing and flipping it everyday, repeatedly patting the mould down, almost as if burping a baby till it is ready to make his debut upstairs. As laborious as it sounds, I found myself in envy of Mr. Anderson as I walked in and out of the dim caves, surrounded by stacks of perfectly ripened cheese in all shapes, sizes and colours. Calvino’s Mr. Palomar in a cheese shop (in the eponymous novel) passed through my mind. “This shop is a museum: Mr. Palomar, visiting it, feels as he does in the Louvre, behind every displayed object the presence of the civilization that has given it form and takes form from it.” When I gently tapped a big wheel of clothbound cheddar, it felt warm and alive underneath. I longed to understand it as well as the affineur did, then to look after it, until it is ready.

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RIDING THROUGH WATER AND LIGHT — Introducing a one-off limited-edition series of four bicycles; Cloud, Rain, Mist and Dew. We find beauty not in the thing itself but in the patterns of shadows, the light and the darkness, that one thing against another creates. — Jun’ichiro Tanazaki, In Praise of Shadows Water moves throughout the Earth in a changing pattern through cycles of precipitation and evaporation. Taking inspiration from the overlapping stages, elements of the hydrologic cycle were distinguished to represent each bicycle, reinforcing notions of repetition, renewal, reflection and change. While traveling between time and space, each bicycle captures moments of transition by symbolically becoming the moment itself. Visual narratives formed through the interaction with light and space represent the passing moments. Chrome reflects the surrounding light, emulating beads of water while shades of grey superimpose like clouds. A sheet of rain starts to fall in diagonal lines. Finally, the existence of dew pushes time forward to the start of a new journey.

a store curated by underscore

CLOUD

descriptions Cloud Messenger Bike captures qualities of light and space transmitting through the overlapping layers of cloud and sky. Cloud is custom-fabricated and crafted using a 1970s Ishiwata touring frame, and is designed as a sleek single speed ride that comes fitted with a coaster hub brake. colour Pewter, White & Chrome price US$3200.00 a store curated by underscore

RAIN

descriptions Rain Messenger Bike expresses the moment when the bicycle shifts through rain that falls in diagonal lines. Custom-fabricated and crafted using a 1970s Ishiwata touring frame, Rain was brazed and re-proportioned, and built as an elegant single speed bike that comes fitted with a coaster hub brake. colour White & Chrome price US$3200.00 a store curated by underscore

MIST

descriptions Mist Messenger Bike is an expression of heavy mist precipitating at dawn, glistening through its reflection of a water droplet in light. Restored and custom-built using a 1970s Ishiwata touring frame, Mist comes fitted with a coaster hub brake, chrome finished handlebar grips and puncture resistant 700-c tyres. colour Ash, White & Chrome price US$3200.00 a store curated by underscore

DEW

descriptions Dew Messenger Bike depicts the initial moment of melting snow, as if charting the precise moment when winter transits into spring. Dew is meticulously restored, re-welded and fabricated using a 1970s Ishiwata touring frame, and fitted with a coaster hub brake and a magnesium alloy aero rim. colour White & Chrome price US$3200.00 a store curated by underscore

Four special 1970 s Japanese-made Ishiwata touring frames of high-grade vintage steel with fillet-brazed joinery and lugged construction were acquired as the canvases. These frames are extremely durable, strong and flexible, with the ability to withstand extreme stress from the toughest urban riding conditions. Their “relaxed” geometries, slight rake angles in the head and seat tubes, are ideal for commuting, as opposed to trackspecific frames that have “tighter” geometries and a very short wheelbase built for the velodrome. In order to achieve the sleek lines of a track frame, the existing bosses and brackets that were once used for the brake cables and derailleurs were brazed and filed. New track dropouts were specially laser-cut and fitted onto the frames. To accommodate newer and sleeker 700-c tyres, the forks, seat and chain stays were shortened. Each frame was sandblasted, galvanised and chrome-plated. In order to achieve a clean division and even finish between the chrome-plated finish and the white powder-coated paint finish, the frames for Dew and Rain were scored, shaved and sanded to a depth of one-millimetre. Thereafter, a powder-coated paint finish was applied. All bikes were built as single-speed kinetic sculptures and fitted with coaster hub brakes. They are enjoyable rides that are easy to maintain.

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NEIGHBOURHOOD N'9 – RABAT

HASSAN Text by Tarnima Sabed Photography by Alexandre Baron

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I spent a good amount of last year planning to quit everything and move to Morocco to do volunteer work. I wasn’t unhappy with where I was, just not fulfilled. Chris McCandless was inspired by this quote and I can imagine why:

“...the sea’s only gifts are harsh blows and, occasionally, the chance to feel strong. Now, I don’t know much about the sea, but I do know that that’s the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong, to measure yourself at least once, to find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions, facing blind, deaf stone alone, with nothing to help you but your own hands and your own head...” — Bear Meat by Primo Levi

With that thought, I decided to throw myself into the deep end of the ocean. I arrived at Rabat—the capital and lesser known of the glamorous cities in Morocco. It is a coastal city by the Atlantic Ocean, and Morocco’s Administrative Capital. The King lives here too, making it a relatively safe city. A cosy town with a population of less than a million, it has a well-connected transportation system. A train or a bus will take you to nearby beaches such as the ones in Skhirat, Temara or Sale (sometimes considered part of Rabat). There may be many expatriates living here but few tourists visit, enabling it to maintain its peace and its prices. This is especially evident in the Medina—my favorite place to get lost in. I like to describe it as a “labyrinth of wonderment”. I once walked into a shop and stumbled upon a magical world of spices and herbs of different colours, shapes, sizes, smells and textures. I swore that by the time I leave, I would experiment with every one of them in my cooking. In Rabat, you get the same items you may find in Marrakech, Casablanca or Fez, for a third of the price. Morocco has a way of embracing foreigners as its own. A very welcoming and loving society, neighbourhoods in Rabat such as Hassan, Agdal & Souissi are where most expatriates live in harmony with the locals. You can find international fast food joints and fashion brands along the local kebab and provision shops.

I managed to discover quaint French expat-owned eateries alongside authentic local coffee shops serving qahwa nus-nus (half coffee & half milk) and Msemen (square Moroccan pancakes, or roti prata). These coffee joints are where you will see men sitting in a row discussing life over sweet mint tea or nus-nus. Women have their tête-à-têtes in the privacy of hammams, which they visit twice or thrice a week to catch up while bathing in sabun bildi (olive soap). The accessibility of these amenities is what I love about my neighborhood, Hassan. Two minutes down the road, a local provision shop sells fresh fruits and eggs alongside gas tanks and light bulbs. You can hear daily prayer calls five times a day, loud and clear. I’ve come to realise that the mosques are located such that you will be able to hear the call, anywhere you are. Hassan is also a five-minute walk from the city-centre Mohammed V Avenue, the Big Square known as Place Pietri where flower vendors sell fresh flowers daily, the Medina & the River Bouregreg. Guards patrol the area 24/7, giving me a peace of mind when I return home after dark. I love going to River Bouregreg on weekends for a seafood meal overlooking the sea and the Kasbah Des Oudayas. Recently, many restaurants in the theme of Al fresco dining have popped up along the riverbank, making it quite a bustling place to be on weekends. The Kasbah des Oudayas is where you see white houses with blue walls and a stroll there calms me. After which, I will sit at Café Maure for some mint tea and light reading. As I write this, I think of how impossible it is to truly capture the essence of life in Hassan in words. It is another small city within a city, where I have everything I need. It is my respite, my home for the next year or so, as I continue to explore the country, moving from Roman Ruins to mansions hidden within the narrow walls of the Medina. Most importantly, a place that once felt exotic, mysterious and foreign has now engulfed me in its warm and comforting embrace, enabling me to accomplish what I came here to do with love and sincerity.

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CHAPTER EIGHT

CONVERSATION N'5

DAMIR DOMA â&#x20AC;&#x201D; A conversation with Damir Doma on the world he creates with his garments.

A designer from the soul, Damir Domaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s embrace of the human form alludes to a beautiful fragility as his vision translates into a form reminiscent of aesthetic poetry. His exploration through fabric experimentations show through the progressive ideals of discovery and diversity, leading to organic silhouettes of fluidity, in turn creating his own universe for us all to reside in. Text by Samuel Willet Photographs courtesy of Damir Doma

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damir johndoma eeeee best

We heard that you are currently working on the upcoming season which involves some traveling. Where are you headed to and how is everything working out so far? I’m in the middle of the womens collection! We just started the development of shoes and bags and for the moment I’m in Paris preparing the next womens show, checking locations and meeting with the production team. By the end of the week I’ll have to go to Italy to check on the collection samples. It’s a very hectic period right now and I’m trying to take some days off to relax. Your vision is extremely directional, do you design a world within your garments or an experience to be interpreted by the wearer? I’m basically designing my own world and I try to turn my vision into reality. I believe it’s up to the wearer to create his own individual style once he or she has my products. I’m trying to inspire people, show them alternative ways to approach clothing and personal style, but at the end of the day I don’t really believe in people wearing whole looks from one designer. Texture and material are an integral basis to each garment, why is this so important to you and how would you describe the relationship of these elements to the wearer?

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The material is the base of each garment and I create my materials from scratch. Most of the materials we use are exclusive developments and depending on the material, the style of a garment can be very different. It’s a process we go through that enables us to change the whole look of the wearer. I also believe clothes and especially materials are something very intimate and personal. The materials are in direct and close contact with your skin and I find most people don’t really spend enough time to think about this fact and select the right garment. How would you describe the quintessential Damir Doma female and male and how does this affect the way you design each collection? They are both proud, elegant and strong individuals. My clothes give them the chance to live and show their character. I always create with this image in my mind. Your aesthetic influences seem to stem from a diverse range of sub-cultures, what is your constant source of inspiration? There are a few different roots and characteristics in me. I wouldn’t just reduce it to my Croatian roots but I believe it’s really important to see my whole background including my Croatian origin but also my German, Belgium and Parisian background. I believe that

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the mix of these cultural influences make my work so special. It’s also important to see that through the mix of different cultures there is no clear reference left! I can’t really identify with one of these cultures and say: “this is 100% me!”. I’m trying not to give a clear reference. You are surrounded by a strong group of talented avant-garde designers showing each season. How do you remain focused on your own direction? I’m trying not to look to much left and right, I protect myself and my personal individual vision by focusing on my own work and creation. Brands are now driven largely by online media with a plethora of information readily available within minutes of any runway show. Do you see the current transparent nature of fashion as a positive or negative impact on your vision? Online media has no impact on my creation or my inspiration. In general I believe that it’s a great thing for the consumer and the press but the major problem is that there is no quality control anymore! At the end of the day I’m not the biggest fan of online information. We’ll have to find a way of structuring the information we find on the web.

what information exactly is—at the moment I find it really hard to understand which online information is based on a quality research by a professional and which one is just bullshit by a bored fashion student! The interior of your flagship store in Paris goes hand-in-hand with that of your garments, can you tell us a little bit about the development of the store and how integral your own working environment is to its creative process? I believe it’s important to create an individual universe, not just one made up of clothes. People who enter the store have to feel surrounded by the aura of Damir Doma. It’s also very important for myself to be surrounded by the right music in the right light and really feel the creation. With the release of SILENT and your women’s collection all in the same season, what can we expect from you in the future, particularly from FW 2011? I’m working a lot on the refinements and positioning of the collections now, each of them should portray it’s own character. For end 2010 there will be some new collaborations and there will definitely be some great surprises!

We have to refine our understanding of

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NEO TOKYO Text by Seiya Nakamura Translation by Joel Radley Photography by Yang Tan

常に時代の最先端であり続けるシンボル、薄っぺらいトレンドの渦の中心、空虚な主張が溢れる街、創造と破壊の産物、トウキョウ。The symbol that continues to be at the forefront of our times, at the centre of a whirlpool surrounded by

superficial trends and empty claims, a product of creation and destruction—Tokyo. エネルギッシュなネオンの中に住む住人は皆、無表情な仮面を被っており、たんたんとした毎日をただ繰り返している。The dwellers living in this ener-

getic neon environment bear expressionless masks, merely repeating the same monotonous tasks everyday. トウキョウの温暖化と共に異常な程に膨れ上がった砂の海で、自分を見失った若い芽。Young buds lose sight of themselves

in the sea sand, which has swelled abnormally together with the warming of Tokyo. 夢から覚めない孤独な人形。 Isolated figures that cannot wake up from their dreams. ユースカルチャーを失い、平和という温室で育ったオタクカルチャーが街にはびこる。Raised in a greenhouse of peace, the otaku culture is thriving, and Tokyo’s youth culture is lost. ここではあらゆるものが市場という幻影の中にある。欲望、カルチャー、アイデンティティー。Here everything is in an illusion called the market: desire, culture and identity. それは仮面たちの見る夢。All of which are dreams of the masked wanderers. 全ての事象が煩雑にせめぎあい、そして消える。生まれては消え、生まれては消え、一つのリズム。大きな流れ。All phenomena struggle and fight in complicatedness, then fade away. They are born and disappear, born and disappear, one rhythm. The big current. 現実は矛盾も可能な世界と認識されうる。A reality that recognizes even the contradiction to be a practical universe. それはちょうど、くたびれたスーツたちを乗せたセントラルラインがトウキョウの街を突っ切っていくように。That is precisely the central line that conveys worn suits across and through the town of Tokyo. 行く末は破滅か、喪失か。What is their destination? Is it destruction or loss? こんなトウキョウを、ゴジラのように破壊し創造しようとするアーティスト達。Artists in a sense want to destroy Tokyo like Godzilla, and then recreate this time and space. トウキョウの一角にある彼等のアトリエはまさにこの現実から目を覚まさせてくれるほど白く、トラディショナルとモダンが交差する場所。Their studios in the corner of Tokyo are so white as to surely let you wake up from this reality, a place where the traditional intersects modern. Neo Tokyo とも言える異空間。You could call this Neo Tokyo, a community that is the epitome of the creative universe. トレディショナルを先代から伝承し、それをクリエートする力を持つ真のアーティスト。The tradition was handed down from the history; that it is a true artist who holds the power to create by one’s self. 彼等のようなアーティストはひっそりと生息し、美しい物を美しいと思えない人々とは別世界に身を置いている。Artists like this live calm in tranquillity and put their mind in a different world from the people who can not think a beautiful thing to be beautiful. しかし、真のアーティストが彼らの仮面をはぎ取らない限りこの流れは決して変わる事は無く、クラブにはポップミュージックが流れ、ファッションはユニフォームと化し、何処の街にも同じ建物が並ぶ、何のキャラクター性も無いただ便利なショッピングシティへと変わって行くだろう。However,

as long as these real artists do not strip off those expressionless masks, this current will never change. Only pop music would flow from club speakers, fashion would become as tedious as a uniform, the same buildings would line up next to each other like every other city, whose unique essence of character would cease to exist, with cities of tomorrow focused on convenience rather than personality. そして全ての美意識が崩壊しはじめ、トウキョウからアートは消える。All the senses of beauty would begin to collapse and the art would vanish from Tokyo in an instance. その事に気づきはじめたアーティスト達が今、新たなカルチャーを生み出そうとしている。The artists who have begun to notice this phenomenon are now trying to bring about this new(neo) culture, now.

Piana – Monster snow bird (2003)

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CONVERSATION N'6

LEE COTTER — A conversation with Fifth Avenue Shoe Repair’s masterful visionaire.

Generous in sharing his techniques, Lee Cotter is a self-taught garment sculptor, possessing years of knowledge and experience. Unfazed by trends and demands of the fashion world, Lee stays true to himself. With his other half and inspiration in work and life, Astrid Olsson, Fifth Avenue Shoe Repair remains unfazed by neither success nor fame. All they want is to make clothing—for individuals courageous enough to wear them. Photographs courtesy of Fifth Avenue Shoe Repair

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Hi Lee, what are you currently busy with? We are finishing up the Spring 2011 collection and putting together some last unfinished threads. I am designing some bags for the accessories collection. Do tell us more about your background. My father is English and my mother Swedish. I grew up in London suburb-Kent during the 70´s. Neither my Mother nor my Father have any background or interest in fashion and I believe that my first stumbling encounter with style was by wearing my school uniform. I had (and still have) a hate/love relationship towards any uniform! Hate the fact that a uniform dehumanizes the individual and takes away the essential part of the personal expression of the individual, but at the same time I just love the look of my small grey flannel jacket and shorts and the stripe tie and thick white socks. Looks great at any occasion! You never went to school to study design and started off as a retail buyer. How does this impact what you do today? I wouldn’t recommend anybody to go the path that I have gone. My aim and goal through life was to study design but I never came around doing it because I had so many projects and jobs that were offered. I went with the flow and ended up learning by doing. I don’t think to study is the most important thing as you can learn so much by experiencing things but the thing that I missed by not studying is to be able to dedicate a couple of years to focus on myself. My career started off in retail, I was a buyer for many years. During those years, I did production for a big department store in Sweden called nk. Well, you can say that it is the biggest and most respected department store in Sweden. I used to produce basic garments for their private label and the buying for brands from all over the world so I got a very versatile look into the business. From production to distribution to retail so

it was a very good platform for me to start Fifth Avenue Shoe Repair. Tell us about your partnership with Astrid Olsson. How long have you been working together? Astrid is my better half and the other half of fasr. She is a huge part of everything from the other side of this business, a tailor and a pattern maker. She went to school to study design and we’ve been together for a very long time-about 14 years now. We’ve done so many projects before fasr, such as clothing for theatre, dancers, actors, drag queen, artists plus a lot of different and really strange things, which gives us the freedom of thinking when it comes to fashion. We do not have a conventional look on things like how a pair of trousers should look or how a shirt should be. Astrid and I are very different but in the same way, very alike. We never agree on anything but we always agree with the end result. It is very strange actually. I guess the differences make you a spectacular pair. Could you share with us, your personal opinion on how FASR has progressed since its inception? fasr started as an experiment with techniques and theories. The first small collection was twelve pieces of jersey and knitwear, a collection with all focus on silhouette and achieving our intended shape. The collection was well received by media and buyers and we decided there and then that we had to take a personal stand and choose how to create and combine commence and artistry. We choose to create Fifth Avenue Shoe Repair and Shoe Repair By The No. fasr being the commerce and By The No to be our artistic outlet. fasr has since the start evolved in to a full collection brand including apparel, shoes, bags and accessories. Would you say that the design process of By The No differs from FASR? By The No is our ego-trip, it is a forum for us to create

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without commercial thought. Creating a commercial collection, you have a vision but you have to compromise, otherwise you can’t create it. It’s not wearable.

inspirations and find new techniques and ideas from machines that were intended for something and we use it for something else. It’s a fun way of creating.

We like to describe the By The No creations as an extension of the vision set in our minds when closing our eyes, creating with no compromise and no limitation.

Is there a particular person in mind that you create for?

Speaking of learning, you find inspiration in architecture and sculpture, could you share with us specific examples of your artistic influence? We have based many shapes upon buildings or objects from great architects and sculptures. Frank Gehry, Ando Tadao, Richard Serra, Christo & Jeanne-Caude to mention a few greats that have influenced and inspired us to create. Any specific fabrics that you enjoy working with? We work a lot with technical fabric, which is very inspiring, like many different nylons for every season. We’ve done everything with nylon-shirts, trousers, dresses and outerwear, like jackets and so on. It is a very interesting fabric and there are so many different kinds that you can work with. We like to add technical aspects to the collection and use technical fabrics in another way than it is intended. For instance, it may be intended for ski or sportswear but we work with them for eveningwear. We also work with classic men’s suit wool in women’s wear. We produce women’s wear in the men’s suit manufacturing factory. We have forced them to make women’s clothing. The precision and the pressing of men’s suiting and garments are so much better than the women’s wear traditional manufacturing, which doesn’t even come close. A lot of time is spent at the factories. Visiting the manufacturing process is key to everything. Spending time with the manufacturers give us both an understanding for each other and we can also draw a lot of

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We hardly ever speak about anyone but I can say a type of person who would wear our clothes. I think we attract someone who is kind of courageous. You have to have a strong personality to want to wear some of the clothing. The brand is not shouting. We are not extreme or expressing anything like punk so it kind of attracts intellectuals. We don’t force ourselves on people. With regards to colour, your palette has definitely evolved significantly over the years, without losing the primary black, grey and white. The shades we use are due to the fact that all is forgiven in neutral. Colours have many references that may take away the intended expression of the creation. Round red becomes tomato, long yellow a banana and so on. A lot of the garments are voluminous with a lot of twists and turns and are very intricate. Strong colours would take over the expression of the shape and steal attention from the actual creation. Hence, we focus on black. Black is fantastic to work with because it gives so many shades and there are so many different blacks. However, we have not taken a stand for or against any colours. We do colours as well. We are looking to do a part of a collection (only ready until 2011) with graphics and certain colours, so we are not afraid of colours. It’s just that fasr’s core collection isn’t really the kind of brand that’s meant to be super colourful. How do you begin a new collection? What is the process like? There are always too many ideas to be able to do everything. Often you have an idea of what it should be but you have to be flexible and have a huge margin of mistakes. Sometimes you start off working on an idea that you want to drape or deconstruct but the

fabric that you are working with doesn’t want to or it’s not meant to. So it actually tells you something else. It tells you that it wants to have a certain weight or volume so it makes you create something else. You won’t really know what the end result will be and that is extremely inspiring. After awhile, you take two steps back and you look at what you have created. It could be something really nice or a huge mistake. That’s where we need the huge margin of acceptance for mistakes. We have a lot of things that never, ever went to production. Trial and error is a rule here. So which is more important, concept or technique? When we started off we mainly looked to challenge ourselves by giving ourselves boundaries as for example, create a garment by only using square or circles. To date we still use these working methods but as we now are a design team creating larger and complete collections we have to paint the picture for all involved and not keep all in our own heads. That is why we tell the story and create a world for all to visit and interpret. But all in all we feel that the construction and techniques always come first, the atelier is the core of our design process and all great ideas are born there. In the spring collection for instance, we used the word Maximalism. The hairdos are nearly like pineapples hanging in from the head and we thought, lets just throw everything in there. We built a cage that grows out from the corset bones. We were actually talking about having birds inside the cage but it didn’t work. That would have been incredible! Yeah and the model would have been hysterical. We used the floral fabric and its colours took over the collection because it was so strong. For the first time, we looked at styling a collection and putting pieces together. We haven’t thought that way before. We’ve only been thinking of evolving around a pattern cutting technique. This time we actually started off by thinking of different characters, which gave us more

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freedom to dare and let ourselves design with even more different techniques, which is the base of everything. This is the first time that we evolved around a story. We haven’t worked with themes before. So what’s the next collection about? We based Autumn 2010 on another story. It has to do with Asian people, a Japanese look. Japan is one of our major markets so we have started to work a lot with Japanese, I just love working with Asian people. I don’t know why but Swedes and Asian people get along really well together. The Japanese take a lot of influence from the west and then they add onto their original Japanese style and make a new look out of it. I have made the collection based on a young Japanese guy interpretating a stereotype look from a traditional British fashion male wearing his school uniform together with his Japanese sneakers.

Well, we look forward to seeing the new collection. Do you always feel completely satisfied before putting out a show? I’m not really satisfied until a long time actually. When we have the total collection hanging in the showroom after everything is finished, it takes a couple of weeks for me to enjoy it. After awhile I’d get really fed up with it and start nearly hating the collection. It takes time. Then when it starts producing and hits the shop floor, I see it with new eyes again and it’s been nearly a year after I had the idea. I start to like it again. Seems like you have a complicated relationship with your creations, does this happen for Astrid as well? Yes, she has the same type of feelings. I think that it’s a quite common feeling amongst all designers or artists. It takes many years until you grow the confidence to dare to love your own work the same way a consumer or bystander can.

Like finding a harmony between opposite cultures? Exactly. What kind of research was conducted for inspiration on this new collection? We have studies natural body shapes when performing different sports as, skiing, bicycling jumping and so on. We have cut the clothing to match that shape, later when the piece is worn by a person in normal stance it takes a new shape creating surplus fabric in different parts, and this creates a new shape. The wearer is creating the shape!

Forget norms and traditions, what is your personal interpretation of success? Tough question to answer! When many people around the world learn to recognize our craftsmanship and design from a far by just seeing our garments on the street—and love what they see. That’s brand success! When even more people choose to wear fasr around the world—that’s personal success! As designer of a visionary brand, what keeps you Constant? Astrid.

The Japanese inspires us all. What do you like about them? Their mannerism and respect for other people. The way they take in world influence. I think the Japanese adapt fast to world influence but at the same time, they are so true to their culture so they don’t change. They add on new things, with respect to where they come from. I kind of really like that.

Fifth Avenue Shoe Repair is proud to announce its first ever standalone boutique out of Sweden, now open in Singapore at the Hilton Shopping Gallery.

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OF VEIN SKIN AND BONE Photography by Yang Tan Styling by Letitia Phay & Jade Swee

Dressmaking bones form the skeletal framework, while fabrics mimic muscle fibres. The interwoven network of tissue and joint translates in dress cuts, conforming to the human silhouette as its constant.

The Antlers â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Prologue hospice (2009)

All dresses provided by Time Taken To Make A Dress Hair & Makeup Cecilia Tan Model Vero / upfront

CHAPTER TEN

NON-PLACES Text by Lauren Palmor

The unexpected comfort of a universally standard place, easily recognised to facilitate its intended purpose.

“If place can be defined as relational, historical, and concerned with identity, then a space which cannot be defined as relational, or historical, or concerned with identity will be a non-place.” — Marc Augé You are sitting on the Eurostar going directly from London to Paris. Emerging from the tunnel above ground somewhere outside Calais, your phone rings. You pick it up and a friend asks: “where are you?” You do not answer: “I am in France.” or “I am just outside Calais.” Rather, you say: “I’m in the train,” though really, you are nowhere at all.

don’t have a memory or a history. Augé sees the prevalence of non-places as the signifier of the problems of contemporary life, a post-modernity in which he wrote: “people are always, and never, at home.” Non-places are necessary for moving people and things. The more efficient and practical these spaces are, the more they resemble a universal standard: the same lights, chairs and coarse grey carpet. Waiting rooms and airports unite people who share the common goal of filing a paper or getting on a plane, and these places form relationships between us, based on the common desire to leave. These are spaces of solitude – vast and monumental temples dedicated to wanting to be elsewhere.

Some places are not places. They are halls designed for waiting or terminals, which exist purely to move people from one room to another. The French and Italian have the shared anthropological term, which describes these non-places—non-lieux and non-luoghi respectively. These places have a non-identity and give a unanimous feeling we share as we graze each other in grey hallways or rub shoulders in security checkpoints. Strangers passing under the same fluorescent lights we see in every city.

Non-places are similar but different, marked not by their defining characteristics, but rather how they are different from other non-places. We would notice if an airport is particularly warm and welcoming, expecting sterility as the standard. Non-places are not contaminated by change. They reflect the world as anonymous, unremarkable, and easily forgettable.

The term non-place was first introduced by the French anthropologist Marc Augé who published Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity in 1995. He described non-places as places designed to be passed through, like airports, supermarkets, hotel rooms, and highways. These are not places people linger or socialize, but places we move through with purpose. They do not record our comings or goings—they

Highways, supermarkets, and rest stops are non-places sharing a characteristic lack of history: they are to be accessed in the present, without needing to make reference to the past or future. Nobody plans on making friends in a waiting room and personal mail is not addressed to the airport. We don’t interact with other drivers on the highway, or claim a rest-stop restaurant as our favourite place to eat. These are non-places

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Though we travel to find excitement and adventure, we usually end up in rooms identical to those we left behind.

provisional places, to be used by individuals rather than communities or groups. We pass through waiting rooms, but no one expects to be found there. Most non-places are interchangeable. One can take the form of another without shifting its function. Generally, these places are standardised across national lines: the numbered terminals are always in matching colours, the plastic chairs are always in tidy rows and the lady with the kind voice always comes on the loudspeaker to say your number, name and destination. Modern places like these are hyper-specialised with extremely pronounced functions. Airports, train stations, and border security share a high standard of technology and a low standard of comfort. Stand in line, take your computer out of the bag, and put it in the grey plastic bin. Nobody asks if you are comfortable when they pat you down, looking for weapons. The greatest paradox in non-places is the comfort found there, isolated and in small doses. If you are lost in a new city or waiting in a strange office, a small degree of familiarity can be found in fluorescent lights, motorways, industrial carpeting and cable news television playing without sound, always with text scrolling underneath with the latest updates. We always find a chain restaurant in the airport, which serves the same hamburger from Montreal to Athens. Symbols, words, and pre-recorded messages make up the language of a modern space. 130

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Non-smoking signs, first-aid kits, and do not enter posters are understood in all languages and continents. We wordlessly walk through halls directed by arrows and green lights, taking directions from plastic notice boards. Our only task as users is to enter, wait our turn and leave. We are no different from others, marked by a number or name on the airline’s list. We find ourselves playing the same part, respecting the same rules of quiet and order. In Italo Calvino’s book Invisible Cities, he described the order and organization of places in terms of “continuous cities.” Sameness and non-place is found in the fictional city of Trude. Calvino writes, “If on arriving at Trude I had not read the city’s name written in big letters, I would have thought I was landing at the same airport from which I had taken off…This was the first time I had come to Trude, but I already know the hotel where I happened to be lodged; I had already heard and spoken my dialogues with the buyers and sellers of hardware; I ended the days identically…Why come to Trude? I asked myself. And I already wanted to leave.” 1 Calvino’s fictional city of Trude truthfully resembles real cities we live in today and the non-places we encounter within. Listlessness and stagnation can be found, paradoxically, in any form of travel. Though we travel to find excitement and adventure, we usually end up in rooms identical to those we left behind. Familiarities in modern places do not begin or end. Only the mailing addresses and languages seem to change.

Although modern non-places may signify a loss of history and identity, they are here to stay. As the world grows smaller and more interconnected, we will universally come to share more of the same waiting rooms, train stations, and airport lounges. What we lose in uniqueness, we will gain in the experience of a greater understanding of all people from all cultures. After all, we look at the same clocks and departure boards.

We can criticise the homogenisation of the world, or maybe the problems of globalisation. But non-places serve us in making the world feel familiar and comforting. We can all feel at home as easily in Cairo, Tashkent, Chicago, or Brussels, waiting in the same chairs on our way to somewhere else.

Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been able to find a small degree of comfort in these during my travels. Once, I was waiting to meet a long-lost cousin in the airport in Warsaw, Poland; I had never been to Poland, did not know the language and never met my cousin. Looking around the busy terminal, searching for an unfamiliar face, I heard an unknown language and saw confusing advertisements. It was a relief to at least feel familiar with the terminal, though I had never been there before.

Italo Calvino (1972) Invisible Cities. Translated by William Weaver. London: Harcourt, Inc., p.128

Another time I fell ill in Italy and needed to have a blood test. Though I spoke the language, I had no knowledge of medical Italian. I did not completely understand what the medical centre was trying to diagnose. Surrounded by doctors and nurses, I felt confused and frightened. Thankfully, the waiting room in the doctorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s office was not unlike the waiting room of my doctor in California. The rows of plastic chairs and the old magazines on the table felt comforting and familiar. I was scared but felt a bit calm flipping through an old fashion magazine in an uncomfortable chair, just as I would have done in Los Angeles or New York.

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EAT, DRINK, CHINATOWN Text by James Casey Photography by Alastair Casey

Food from Chinatowns of the world that provide familiar comfort, much like a faithful companion.

my then seventeen years in Hong Kong, the reality of small town America was quickly starting to sink in. I was a long way from home. (7663.7 miles to be precise.)

Almost thirteen years ago to the day, Hong Kong was ceremoniously handed back to the People’s Republic of China—the sun had at long last set on Britain’s bedridden empire. The evening was notable for its weather—a torrential squall that brought to mind Blade Runner and that melodramatic ‘Tears in Rain’ monologue. To paraphrase, all those moments would be lost in time. That said, I never got to see anything nearly as amazing during my time there as an attack ship on fire off the shoulder of Orion. Just two months following that momentous evening, I said a teary goodbye to my family and boarded a plane at Kai Tak Airport bound for Los Angeles. Thirteen hours later, I transferred for a short flight to Tucson, Arizona—home for the next few years of intended education. Having up until that point spent what was almost the entirety of 132

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Where appearances would imply that I was one of her majesty’s indebted servants (at the time I had taken to fashioning a look caught somewhere between Tim Burgess and Gaz from Supergrass), my outlook rested very squarely with Hong Kong. I missed the city’s superlative offerings, and was stuck with limited options in what was both a figurative and literal dessert. In short, Arizona was the pits. Every day was predictable. The looming “where you from?” question inevitably followed me opening my mouth. The usual response would elicit varying degrees of suspicion. In all seriousness, I was once asked if I spoke Konglish. Seriously. A few miserable weeks into my stay and I had already discovered Southern Arizona’s only half-decent destination for dim-sum—a particularly dreadful offering in light of what I was previously used to (but a wholly effective substitute given the circumstances). Almost weekly, we the refugees would visit, picking out sub-par renditions of the classics that circulated the room. Har gow, siu mai, char siu bau, cheong fun, pai gwat et al. This was what home tasted like.

A year and a half later and I was ready to leave. Beaten down by provincial life and all its accompanying idiocy, a return to a big city was the remedy. I packed my bags, said goodbye to my troubled girlfriend and headed out the door. A domestic transfer to New York, a quick hop over the Atlantic and I was in London, my ancestral home. Where in Arizona I was perhaps an exotic specimen, over here I was the same as everyone else— an Englishman and happy with his lot. While London was all it should be and more, I was certainly not tired of life at eighteen—much of my free time was spent dawdling around the backstreets of Chinatown, seeking out the choicest char siu(roast pork) and sucking back paper cartons of sickly-sweet Vita lemon tea. Chinatown in London is itself a crude facsimile of some archetypal Chinese hamlet, yet its Sinified streets (slicked in grease) felt much more like home. Lunches at the notorious Wong Kei were followed by a stroll to Hong Kong bakery for freshly baked iterations of daan tat, or egg custard tarts. Having dropped out of art school in early 2001, I decided to head to New York for a few months. I had told myself that I might finish my degree there, but knew that it was really just an opportunity to waste time. Old habits

dying hard, I again found myself in Chinatown exploring for hidden treasure. Where London’s Chinatown is but three streets, New York’s is a sprawling expanse colonizing both the Lower East Side and area formerly known as Little Italy. Totally broke, I had acclimated myself to a diet of instant noodles, occasionally supplemented with the occasional vegetable. Chinatown’s Hong Kong supermarket offered inexpensive groceries, and with next to nothing in the bank account, Nissin’s ramen in the red and white packet fit the bill. When checks came rolling in (for menial tasks performed half-heartedly), it was off to Allen Street for a slap-up meal at the famed Congee Village. A decade later, and almost certainly a New Yorker, I still find myself shuffling over to Manhattan’s Chinatown with alarming frequency. Entering shop fronts where the windows are fogged with vapours of roasted meat, I take a table in the neon glow and order the old faithful. “Yat gor char siu faan, m’goi,” I say—a reminder that while things would never be the same as they once were, not everything need be lost in the past either.

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WRITE TO THE LEAVES Text & Photography by You Li

These landscapes of Northern China pay tribute to plant life–listeners of the world with their own sense of presence.

The Soul’s Release – Dripping Whispers sometime, somewhere (2008)

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Text by Stephanie Peh Photographs courtesy of Labour & Wait, Redecker

Early Americans scrubbed their homes during the long and dreary winter to welcome the first moments of spring’s warmth into a renewed home, and to rekindle the spirit. Whatever one’s reasons today for domestic renewal, here are some fancy tools to get the lazy ones cracking.

apron While being exposed to dirt and dust, cleaning the house is nasty business especially for people with sensitive skin or annoying allergies. As for the garment of choice during the messy process, most people choose to adorn an unwanted T-shirt. An alternative to consider, the apron does a wonderful job at protecting the clothes. Wearing one gets you in the mood to stay loyal to the mission ahead. My first apron was a bib apron that covered the upper part of the body when in use. It was made out of the stiffest denim ever. Despite being an eyesore, it served me well. As an extension of that experience years later, whenever I did photo processing, I would wear an apron to protect my clothes from getting random brown stains, a result of the chemicals. Many of my friends chose to adorn an old T-shirt, which I secretly disregarded. A simple apron was much classier. Initially, Labour & Wait’s waist aprons were created for owners Simon Watkins and Rachel Whythe-Moran’s personal use. Unintended ambassadors of their own products, the apron became an object in demand and was eventually put into production. Made of cotton canvas punched with brass eyelets for herringbone tape ties to be inserted, a bib version is available today too. With two pockets of differing sizes, one on top of the other, it is such a useful and yet stylish product for the forgetful ones who often misplace those brushes amongst the cleaning chaos.

Last Days Of April – From Here To Anywhere angel youth (2000)

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Both waist and bib aprons can be purchased at Labour & Wait located in Redchurch Street, London.

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brushes I have a strange fetish for brushing dusty objects to obtain the obvious results of before and after. It is as though underneath the dirt lie answers to unanswered questions; cleaner belongings pave the way for fresher perspective. People in ancient civilizations relied on simple implements like a twig with a frayed end for cleaning purposes. The fundamental model of a brush remains unchanged today, with two parts conjoined: an end for handling purposes and the other to perform an allocated function. There is an overwhelming range of brushes available today, catering to endless tasks under the roof. Brushes are rarely equipped to perform it all; hence, the search for a perfect multifunctional brush might seem idealistic. A mediocre cheap brush found in the local convenience store would serve common cleaning purposes with acceptable standards since there is no need for aesthetic concernâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;they will get dirty anyway. Despite the impracticality of it all, my brush of fancy

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is task-specific, possessing a quirky aspect of its structure. Task-specific brushes are case studies in giving an object an identity, amidst the mayhem of possible brush forms and materials. But what makes a real difference are brushes constructed with environmental considerations. The Redecker family has been reinventing brushes since 1935. Located at Versmold and crafting their brushes out of natural materials, the German brush house subjects itself to the most exacting and minute of requirements to create new ideas of what their brushes could be. In particular, the cobweb brushes made with horse or goat hair bristles and beech wood handles are suitable for cleaning the petty corners of the ceiling where even the tall ones may find trouble reaching. The cobweb brush can be purchased at BĂźrstenhaus Redecker located in Versmold, Germany.