23.10.12
The University Times
Magazine
THE UT MAGAZINE GOES FIREWORKS SHOPPING P. 6 BLACK MILK PHOTOSHOOT IN THE CRYPT OF CHRIST CHURCH CATHEDRAL P. 11 AN INTERVIEW WITH WEB 2.0 TROUBADOR BARATUNDE THURSTON P. 17
The University Times
October 23, 2012
Magazine
FEATURES THE BIG BANG THEORY
WHAT YOU LOOKIN’ AT
BARATUNDE THURSTON
DANIELLE HARRIS
BY D. JOYCE-AHEARNE
BY JOANNA PEDRINA
BY TOMMY GAVIN & MARIA GIULIA AGNOSTIA
BY CAROLINE EGAN
We investigate just how easy it would be to buy fireworks on Capel Street. It turns out it’s actually really easy.
We meet with Pantibar’s Bunny, a well established drag queen who though young, has already had a storied life.
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The former Web Editor for The Onion recounts how he got there and what he did. Then things get deep as he considers the possibilities of the internet.
The undisputed Scream Queen gives her royal take on the horror genre, and talks about her new film.
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EDITORIAL Halloween is a divisive holiday, some people will deny it even qualifies as one in first place, it not being officially protected as a national holiday, nor more importantly, is the following day. That is a shame, because we at The University Times Magazine fall into the second camp, who would see it as one of the better holidays, even if you’re only going to end up at a mediocre party because nobody organised anything, in a costume you threw together at the last minute. At least it has potential, where the spirit of Christmas is giving; the spirit of Halloween is mischief. Folklorists have accepted its origin being in the Samhain festival, which comes from the Old Irish for “summers end.” When you look at it that way, Halloween becomes an old-school folk festival, where the discarding of the usual social norms forms an important part of the tradition, and the presence of the weird and unusual is not only acknowledged, but welcomed and encouraged. Real life is scary enough, given the arbitrary nature of all social constructions in a vast and indifferent universe. Halloween presents the opportunity for casting off the shackles of normalcy, and god knows they can hang heavy in this country. In that embrace of the meaning of Halloween, we offer you the second issue of the second volume of The University Times Magazine. We did a fashion shoot in the nearly thousand year old crypt of Christ Church, we interviewed Bunny (an expert in dressing up), and we examined how to buy illegal fireworks in Dublin. We also interviewed scream queen of the Halloween films Danielle Harris, and investigated the IFI Horrorthon film festival. On top of all that, we interviewed former web editor of the Onion, and ruminated on the difficulties of after-parties. In case you hadn’t guessed by the feel of the paper, or the long list you’ve just read, this is by far the longest issue we’ve ever done, and we hope to retain our length, and possibly get longer. It is exclusively due to the enthusiasm and dedication of our contributors that our expansion was possible, and that, if nothing else, was cool to see. Enjoy Halloween, don’t be scared to get weird with it.
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Tommy Gavin, Editor
ABOVE: Photograph by Ana Lezacano Cadwallader COVER : Photograph by Chloe Keoghan THE UNIVERSITY TIMES MAGAZINE |
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CONTRIBUTORS EDITOR DEPUTY EDITOR CREATIVE DIRECTOR CULTURE EDITOR MUSIC EDITOR FILM EDITOR FASHION EDITOR PHOTOGRAPHERS
Tommy Gavin Michelle O’Connor Caelan Rush Maria Giulia Agnostia Eoin Hennessy Robert O’Reilly Aoife Considine Chloe Keoghan // Ana Lezacano Cadwallader
ILLUSTRATORS Michel Summers // Oisin Miliano // Dave Mott MODELS Karen Carty // Yvonna Dwyer WORDS Anna E. Clifford // Caroline Egan // D. Joyce-Ahearne // Joanna Perdina // James Bennett // Darach Mac Mathúna // Diarmuid Cushen // Liam Maher // Jack Leahy Photograph by Chloe Keoghan
REGULATION 5
LOITERING WITH INTENT
CULTURE 11
Anna E. Clifford attempts to deconstruct pop culture’s enduring fascination with zombies
FLICK SUPPORT
Caroline Egan talks about her favourite Horror films
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[SIGH]
Jack Leahy bemoans the use of twitter as an excuse for inanity
FASHION
Photoshoot Chloe Keoghan photographs Karen Carty and Yvonna Dwyer in Black Milk clothing, in Christ Church Crypt
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Darach Mac Mathúna is disappointed in me
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FILM
Robert O’Reilly talks werewolves and Diarmuid Cushen talks creepy children
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MUSIC
Eoin Hennessy and Liam Maher listen to some music, beats and tunes.
Consider this the completion of stage three, and now we march triumphantly towards stage four; online. That means extending our tendrils across facebook, twitter, tumblr, and our very own microsite within the University Times’ website. Prepare for the same high-quality magazine journalism you’ve come to expect from the University Times Magazine, but on a much more regular basis. We’re also planning to start regularly producing podcasts in collaboration with TFM. However, in order to fully achieve those ambitious and lofty goals, we need the help of anyone who thinks they’d like to be a part of what we’re doing. The name of The University Times Magazine game is collaboration; we like meeting new people, we like hearing new ideas, and we like people who think it sounds like fun. We’re particularly interested in hearing from designers, illustrators and photographers, but we always have room for interested writers. If you want a licence to have adventures or flex your creative muscles, contact the editor at magazine@universitytimes.ie
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LOITERING WITH INTENT...
FLICK SUPPORT
SEASON OF THE WITCH BY CAROLINE EGAN
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o Halloween is approaching fast and call me biased because of what I study (horror!) but I love a good scary film. Not just one that makes you jump and laugh hysterically afterwards but one that builds a tension so high that you have to look in your wardrobe after watching it. There aren’t that many out there that have done that to me, maybe more a section of a movie that its whole, but if psychological torture is what you are into then read on.
Zombie Nation by Anna E. Clifford
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hat marks our generation’s monsters as strange is not their diversity or their HD grotesqueness, but the fact that we’re just not really scared by them any more. This makes sense in some ways - with our modern understandings and conveniences, the less of a mystery to us; moreover we have rebranded the once demonic Seven Deadly Sins as ‘guilty pleasures’, and even sold as ice cream. There are still creatures that retain at least some mystique - having been dragged to The Grey back in February I can attest that werewolves are still terrifying, and one close friend of mine obsessively adjusts their sleeping arrangements because of ghosts, and vampires are still apparently captivating – but the one persistent staple of the genre seems to have retained it’s spooky essence: the zombie. Over one hundred zombie movies have hit our screens in the last 3 years, and although many are still determinedly categorised as ‘horror’, no-one goes to see Abraham Lincoln vs. Zombies (May 2012) or Cockneys vs Zombies (September 2012) to be frightened. You probably go to laugh, or because you’re bored, or perhaps to reinforce your national identity. But what is it about the zombie that inspires such encompassing interpretations?
Zombies look and dress just like people so they’re easy to place in the real world that we live and work in, and in an urban setting – so no need to travel to a spooky forest in the 13th century to find one. They present a very literal blank slate for us to project on to - and fit very easily into the kitschiest forms of selfreferentiality - the meme. Because even side-stepping the intricacies of zombie-zine culture, on which I won’t pretend to be an expert, zombies maintain a curiously pervasive presence in our cultural consciousness. We’ve all been or seen a morning-after zombie - if when your roommate emerged at 3pm on a Saturday you called her a ghoul, hag or ogre, it would ring strange. The zombie moves through the world with arrogant nonchalance, answering to nothing but its physical cravings. But we also kill them voraciously, and with pleasure, and everyone knows how to - in the same way that we all know how to stop smoking, or lose weight, or save money - but the alternative is always much more fun. If you google ‘how to kill a zombie’ the top results bear eerie resemblance to pages of cosmo tips or - ‘top ten ways to kill a zombie’, ‘best rated ways to kill a zombie’ and this seems to present a neat recognition of perhaps the most prevalent demon of our times: the masochism of consumerist culture. It is oddly fitting that zom-
bies should thrive impeccably in the retail market because zombies are the ultimate consumers. Their mindless craving for brains and guts represents the last word in commodity culture. With this in mind, it is significant that the first blockbuster zombie movie Night of the Living Dead (1968) is set in a mall. In this context, the zombie virus is the method of commodification by which different objects are transformed into similar units of exchange value and thereby enter into the market economy – like having 792 facebook friends instead of Harry and Lucy and Sally. Not that social networking sites or a market economies are necessarily inherently monstrous in themselves, but it seems a real concern amongst even the most brazen consumers amongst us that maybe we’re not doing this because we want to any more, but because we can’t stop. And maybe we don’t want to. The advantages of accessible communications are obvious, and it is the most basic of human instincts to be obsessed with consumption; the competitive economy on a fundamental level means that we feel comfier, look better and our food is tastier.
The first film that I want to address is the House of the Devil (2009), a Dublin Horrorthon screening in 2010, that carefully and painfully drags out ominous feelings to the point of it becoming unbearable. Couple that with a nifty and nostalgic 1980s horror style and it is well worth a look. As director Ti West’s first film this certainly stands out as an unusual and psychological thriller which does not rely on gore and violence to hold your interest. The story centres around Samantha Hughes (Jocelin Donahue) who has been asked to babysit in a weird out-of-the-way house. I know it sounds predictable but it will surprise you. If you haven’t seen [Rec] and you like horror you have probably been living under a rock. The Spanish zombie flick tells the story of a camera crew reporting live on the events in an apartment block with the fire brigade. What starts off as what you expect to be a fairly run of the mill piece builds up to a crescendo of immense proportions – to the point where I was scared to be alone afterwards. There is a shot of shot American remake Quarantine but there are some major differences in it that I think effect the fear factor that the original holds. Essentially watch [Rec] first! I suppose I should mention old classics here. Silence of the Lambs is a fabulous film, not just from a horror point of view, but just all over. The most terrifying bit of that for me has simply got to be the night vision near the end. There is something terrifying about being unable to assess your surroundings, particularly when you’re being chased. The idea of someone watching you when you cannot see what they are doing is one of the most upsetting yet riveting concepts to come out of horror. Other classics that have been talked about considerably before include Psycho, Rosemary’s Baby and Alien, but these are established classics. All these films have one thing in common – terror. Beautiful sweet terror. Happy Halloween!
So, as the punch line of any zombie thriller has it, the real danger is that zombies are already amongst us: that unbeknownst to anyone we have all already been infected.
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THEORY
BANG
FIREWORKS HOLD A SPECIAL PLACE IN THE IRISH HALLOWEEN TRADITION, DESPITE THEIR ILLEGALITY. D. JOYCE-AHEARNE REPORTS ON HOW ONE MIGHT GO ABOUT BUYING THEM IN DUBLIN. What is it about fireworks that cast a spell on the minds of young Irish males? Is it that, if used incorrectly, it can be a source of endless nefarious amusement and destruction? Regardless as to why exactly teenage lads are obsessed with them, why is it that we limit our enjoyment of fireworks, one of man’s most ingenious and spectacularly unnecessary inventions, to essentially only three weeks of the year? This, and not the use of the fireworks themselves, is the crime that ought to be penalised. The season is now upon us. Mid-October, when the falling autumn leaves are joined in the air by the flying debris of flower beds shards of pottery. The glorious days of early autumn, when the firmament is streaked
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with judiciously aimed bottle rockets inevitably making their way towards your windows. When those of us of a certain age cast a wistful eye back on our own days of blowing shit the fuck up and committing public disturbance offences. Oh to be young again, loitering around car parks with empty bottles and stolen pound shop lighters, launching rocket after rocket into others people’s gardens. I’m finding myself particularly nostalgic about fireworks because not only did I get the joy we all got in letting them off, but I also got lots and lots of money. Yes, that’s right, I was that guy. The one with the O’Neills gear-bag with the flammable sticker on it; the one always hanging around by the school gate, smell-
ing faintly of sulphur and burnt hair; the one who always seemed to be particularly flush in November when you were all broke having spent all your money on fireworks and cans. I spent four seedy years in the fireworks game before I got out and went straight. Hindsight, you would imagine, would have altered my opinion of my dealing days, and perhaps even tainted my memories of supplying the youth of Wexford with crudely made explosives at a totally unjustifiable mark up with an element of shame, but in fact it’s the opposite. Now that I live in a world without fireworks I’m even more nostalgic about my days in the business. The fireworks underground is like any
other black market. I had always been an industrious youth (for industrious read mercenary and totally devoid of compassion for my fellow man’s safety) and as October of 1st Year approached and my first firework season began I couldn’t help but wonder where this prodigious amount of contraband came from. The market in my school was sewn up by a group all from the same bog hole north of Wexford town. It didn’t matter what year they were in, all you had to know was that if they came from Blackwater they had access to the goods. I wanted in. This first season I spent on market research; testing the competition’s product, noting their underwhelming selection, their high prices, learning their sources. Like most
gougers selling fireworks in the Republic, they got them from the North, which is an expensive business, and was the cause of the high prices they passed on to the consumer. By the time that Halloween rolled around I had already decided to break into the market the next year.
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A GOOD RULE OF THUMB WHEN BUYING FIREWORKS IS DON’T BUY THEM OFF SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T HAVE BOTH OF HIS
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My approach was different from that of my competitors. I didn’t go north of the border to buy wholesale, I went to France. (Rather, I was going on a family holiday to France that summer anyway and decided to bring back heaps of dirt-cheap feux d’artifice.) I came back that August with enough gear to blow the wall off a prefab, and I bided my time, and sat on it until October rolled around. Soon word spread around the school (and rugby club) that I was the man to speak with if you were looking for something a little different this Halloween. I was like a black-market Fallon & Byrne. My goods were marketed as French fireworks, d’appellation d’origine contrôlés. Thankfully children are stupid and exotic French fireworks will always outsell fireworks from Newry or the ploughing championship. In that first year, a €40 investment turned into €250. You see why I’m nostalgic? So as I thought back on my days of underground commerce I got a desire for some gear myself. And then the thought struck me, where does one get fireworks in Dublin? Boards.ie was of no fucking help so I had to speak with actual people. Moore Street came highly recommended. So off to Moore Street I went, to see how the game had changed. A good rule of thumb when buying fireworks is don’t buy them off someone who doesn’t have both of his. It suggests a subpar product. The second is go to where you heard they were being sold and then ask the ropiest fucker you can find. That’s always how people found me. Moore Street was its usual self as I strolled along it, eyes peeled for unscrupulous characters. I found one soon enough. He didn’t look much older than me, possibly even younger. He was definitely selling something. He looked nervous, and in the two minutes I was watching him he stood on the same corner and tied his laces twice. Bless his heart he was new to the business. Professional etiquette maintains that you allow the seller to approach you, so I walked by him twice attempting to make eye contact. The poor dear was looking round him like he was following a fly, trying to see everyone at once and thereby seeing no-one. I began to despair for the business if this was the standard of my successors.
ALWAYS EXERCISE CAUTION WHEN HANDLING FIREWORKS would rather support local businesses. No laugh. Alan told me he had selection boxes (€65 or €45), blackcats (3 for €10) and rockets (12 for €15). I asked could I have a look at them but he wasn’t keen. He said his man wouldn’t be happy if he brought them down and I didn’t buy them. I said I would go to him if that helped. That worked for Alan. He gave me his number and told me to go up to Capel Street and give him a buzz in half an hour. When I asked for his name to put with the number, he said just put AK. The fella with him then said, “and put a 47 after that!”, and made a machine gun motion with his hands, spraying me with bullets. They laughed. I did not. So I made my way up Henry Street towards Capel Street, all the while looking for a phone box because no way in hell was I ringing him off my phone. I didn’t know if payphones even existed anymore. The answer is they do but none of them work. So down to one of those call home for 29c shops, home being Rwanda or Uzbekistan. I’d say I made the only local call in the history of the business. It cost me thirty cents to tell AK that I was at Capel Street and for him to tell me to wait outside
the bookies. Capel Sreet is essentially just an alternating chain of Korean karaoke joints and adult pleasure emporiums. I was not in the least surprised that this was where I had ended up in my search for fireworks. AK eventually ambled up and led me into the bookies, where he knew everyone by name. We studied the form on the mounted screen and discussed sport in general as we waited. He was my man for tickets of any sort. He told me that that story in the papers a few weeks back, about the €7000 shelled out for two All-Ireland tickets was bollox made up by the media to discourage touts. Finally, AK’s man arrived with a black bin bag, standard procedure I can assure you. In it was one of everything that they had on offer. AK was so kind as to offer me the rockets for a tenner. I politely declined, reiterating that I was still only looking around. He accepted this with the graciousness of a seasoned professional and we parted on the best of terms. As I made my way back down Henry Street my spirits were raised knowing that the business was in good hands, hands with all digits still attached.
... UNLESS MARIO BALOTELLI
I moved further along, trying to catch the eye of anyone standing around doing nothing. I caught the attention of an auld wan who was on the other side of the street, who then casually roared “CIGARETTES?!” across at me. I crossed and inquired if she dabbled in anything more explosive. “ALAN! FIREWORKS!” She was one for words this one. She pointed at Alan, who was standing about five feet away with a friend. Alan looked like an Adam and Paul extra. Alan asked what exactly I was looking for. I said I was only shopping round at the moment, informed consumerism, y’know yourself. He said that he was the “only one selling around here”. I told him that I had friends up North who were looking into prices for me, but that I
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WHAT YOU LOOKIN’ AT? Joanna Pedrina meets Bunny, the glamorous diva with the body of a rugby player and the poise of a ballerina.
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ppearing in the light, centre stage, an innocuous glance shot at the audience, and quickly, the fully lashed eyes return to an unfocused glare into the distance. The hands stretch out and lengthen, fingers depleted, to graze the air with the history of glamour itself. Bunny, from her six-inch heels, lip-synchs to a golden-era Hollywood tune as she twists and swerves around her tiny waist. Star quality is not something you can cheat; God only gave it to those unlucky few performers who can’t escape it. And Bunny is one of them. She has us transfixed with each little gesture; the wrists and elbows direct our eyes as her lips embrace the words she only gets to whisper. I meet Bunny at her work. She’s agreed to meet me on her lunch break. She works as a make-up artist at the Belvedere academy, just around the corner from Belvedere College. This is the first time I’ve seen her without her full costume. I call her Bunny but soon switch to Chris. Chris Rowan is Bunny’s real name. I recognise the face instantly when he shows up at the door; the large features and curved cheek bones can’t be hidden by any amount of makeup. But this time the long bob of red hair is gone, revealing a short Mohawk on a mostly shaven head. He sits me down in the studio, which is being refurbished into a professional make-up school, seating himself against the light of the window, so I find myself blinded when facing him. It’s hard not to feel like a transgressor when you’re sitting in front of someone you admire and you need to get them to talk to you. I end up asking the awkward question of how he came up with the Bunny character: “I saw, when I was very very young, a performer called John Epperson. You should look him up. He has a character called Lypsinka. And Lypsinka never speaks but she uses bits of old movie dialogue and she just lip-synchs to those and she’ll make perfect sense. She’s never using her own voice. And she has these theatre shows where, you know, it will show her slowly going mad, but it’s using bits of B movie dialogue. But she was this red-head and she was very sort of, em, very 1950’s and diminutive on stage and I just loved that. But also, it’s very technical. I’m a giant rugby-player shape of a man and so for me to stand on stage with any other drag-queen and look in any way anything other than a giant rugby-player of a man, I have to be very technical about it and do certain things to try and take away from the mannish shape. And you get a lot of people coming up to you and who go ‘look at your waist’, ‘look at this, look at that’ and you go ‘right, cause you’re looking at the right things’, cause that’s distracting from the giant face, the giant head and the big broad shoulders.” It’s true, sitting here in the shadow is a broad and muscular young man who looks away when he’s finished saying what he has to say. There’s something he seems used to in his interactions: he’s used to not expecting much from the person he’s talking to. He talks and casts his words into the air, not looking for a reaction or an answer or any sign of approval; a stage-man who doesn’t expect his audience’s applause or laughter. I want to flatter her, let her know how much of a fan I am, hope she knows how good she is, so I tell her: she’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. I’m not lying. I’ve
never seen someone be a woman as much as her. Chris takes no flattery though, he waves it all away as just necessity: “It’s this thing, if you’re going to do something, and you’ll see it at Halloween, where there’ll be a lot of guys that think it’s hilarious to dress up as a woman. A million queens are born at Halloween. And they will do this thing where, to make sure that everyone knows that they’re not into it, they will purposefully walk like a guy, even more manly than they ever would. And so I have this thing that I say which is if you’re going to do it you can’t keep one big toe in man, you have to commit. Because otherwise it looks ridiculous, it’s ridiculous to start with. You know, you’re standing there on a stage, lip-synching to somebody else’s song, painted like a stolen car, with a giant piece of plastic on your head; you can’t take it seriously. So you just have to commit to it and be the clown and go the whole way with it.” To see Chris as a clown is not easy for me. But the admixture of darkness and merriment that clowns carry around them like an aura is not too far off the spot. At 24, Chris has lived more of life than most people can claim to. He reveals by the way that his bushy eyebrows, which make his makeup so tedious to apply, are due to the fact that he had a tumour when he was fifteen and lost all his hair. He tells me he went to a military school from the age of eleven. “I’d probably have been in the army if I’d stayed put then I got sick at fifteen and so that was sort of my whole background. And at the age of fifteen the gay community saved my life. I ran away because I couldn’t deal. And started working in clubs and started making friends in the scene. That was how it all started. Nobody asks you your age when you’re all done up. And so I sort of fell into it which has been a real lifesaver for me. Because I really didn’t know how to do anything else and I never got a chance to learn how to do anything else. It’s one of those weird things where I’ve had quite a life already.” But Bunny is not your typical drag queen. She has her own range of idols that surround her performances. “I was so obsessed with the old school stuff. Whereas nowadays, somebody who gets up in a gay bar and wants to perform, their influences are completely different. You’re always going to perform based on who inspires you. These kids are inspired by Beyoncé and Lady Gaga. It’s great, it’s fantastic. Good for them. But it certainly wasn’t for me. I was looking at people like Peggy Lee, Nina Simone and Judy Garland; signers that could sing. “I was eleven years old, and I remember this, Danny La Rue was on the television. He was a drag queen, but he was a big, big super star. And he did this:” Chris extends his arm gracefully and sweeps it through the air like a jazz dancer. “And it was the first time I had ever seen a man do anything glamorous. And I remember watching that and not being able to work out what it was because I knew it was a man that was dressed as a woman, and it wasn’t that I wanted to dress like a woman, but it was just that that was the first time that I had seen that there was a possibility that, you know, a kid being brought up in a very religious house, with military education, that you could actually be more than one thing.” Bunny’s performances have that power to make us see the plurality of things we are usu-
ally blind to. She makes me feel what Louis MacNeice says in his poem: “the drunkenness of things being various.” Like any true artist, she widens the breathing space for the soul. Magic happens when she goes on stage, as there is this sense of infinite possibilities being unfolded in front of our eyes. She disagrees with me of course. “You have to understand, I do four gigs a week, and a lot of the time it’s in bars and the majority of the time it’s in places where people are completely ambivalent to what you do and you’re part of their night, and quite frankly, you’re in their way.” Just standing on stage, dressed and done up as a woman, might be the ultimate act of defiance that can’t be traded for simple protestation or revolt. It’s Chris, his person, standing there, in drag, for all of us to see. And it’s terrifyingly beautiful. “There’s this beautiful, beautiful quote that I live my life by. Literally. And it’s from Eartha Kitt. And it’s: ‘Take all the manure that’s been thrown at you, all of your life, and use it as a fertilizer for a rose
You know, you’re standing there on a stage, lip-synching to somebody else’s song, painted like a stolen car, with a giant piece of plastic on your head; you can’t take it seriously. So you just have to commit to it and be the clown and go the whole way with it. to grow.’ And it is that thing of you didn’t go through what you went through, you weren’t ostracized, made feel different and bullied, or whatever you were, to learn nothing from it, to then find a place in the world, in the gay community, where you’re supposed to be allowed to be yourself, to assimilate and to just try and be like everyone else.” Chris just performed as Bunny in the play “The Sanatorium” which was playing in the Smock Alley Theatre on the 19th and 20th of October. “I’m just doing two pieces in it. And it’s kind of like a full circle moment for me because one of the pieces in it is my sort of version of a John Epperson Lypsinka piece. I got to spend about two hours working on it on Sunday with the lighting guy and my queues, and the sound guy with my queues, and the set is stunning. It was just like, oh my God, I’m finally in a real
theatre, which is sold out, directed properly, with a script. With everything that I needed; all of the lights that I needed properly done, all of the stage stuff managed: this isn’t me on a bar lip-synching to a Whitney Houston song anymore, this is the real thing. So it feels like ten years to get that five minutes, but at the same time, for some people, they never get that. If I had the feeling that I got just being in the dress rehearsals for that, with a bunch of people getting to do what they have written, and knowing they were as excited as I was, it is worth it, it’s completely worth it. “It’s that thing of, I think- it sounds, really, really pretentious- but, everybody’s who’s on the fringe, everybody that performs sort of where we perform, they would love for five minutes to feel legitimate. They would love to have that moment where they were respected in that same way, not by people who just come to it and see it for what it is, but people who actually come in the same way that any other audience would come to see a performer, and it’s just such a rare occurrence.” I ask Chris if he’s ever thought about stopping. “Oh yeah. This is my last year. I won’t tell people. When I left Belfast, I didn’t say, I did it. I just left. And, you know, it’s the way it happens.” He takes his time between his sentences and I realise there’s nothing anybody could say to change this guys mind once it’s made up. “We’ll see. We’ll see how long it is before, just, I’ll know. I’ll just get on stage and just, and just no. Once you’ve made a decision, you’ve made a decision.” Chris has the taxonomy of old-Hollywood and gay references to offer me; lists of films and books I have to see and read if I’m to get on in life at all. The best one is Quentin Crisp, the English writer and storyteller. “He was out and gay in the 1920’s and 30’s. He was there wearing nail varnish, in drag in the 1930’s and he would be beat up in the street. There’s this amazing story about him which is he was waiting at the bus stop, and this is a sort of daily occurrence for him, and his point of view was that you had to be seen. There was no point in being militant about being gay, there’s no point in being militant about being flamboyant. You had to be seen to be normal. You could look as unusual as you wanted to, because that was the way you wanted to look, not who you were. But you also had to be seen to be normal so that people would actually understand that you were a human being. “And so, he was waiting at a bus stop and a woman had already stamped on his foot, and a man had already spat on him. The bus came along, and he got on the bus. And his hair is coiffed, died purple. And his nails are gold and his lips were red. He was wearing a velvet suit with a cravat and a pin. And he got onto the bus and the woman wouldn’t let him sit down. And he said, If you like, I’ll get off and walk. But you should know that people like me can’t walk everywhere.” “The bigger thing to do is just to make my point and get on with my life.” Joanna Pedrina interviewing Chris Rowan/ Bunny on Tuesday 16th of October 2012 in Dublin Bunny’s show the Hutch is on at Pantibar every Friday at 10pm and his Burlesque show is on every Thursday at Wilde at 11pm. Photograph by Ana Lezcano Cadwallader.
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The Moot by James Bennett
T
hey say that on the third Thursday of every month, if you go to The Long Stone Bar on Townsend Street, you will see strange things start to happen. A group of pagans will be in the snug discussing fairies, magic, and the other world - over pints and cocktail sausages. I headed down that way to investigate if the rumours were true, and was not disappointed. I arrived near the beginning of the “moot” (a pagan term for a gathering or meeting) when there were still not that many people there. I was warmly welcomed and immediately started chatting to the regulars. They asked me what had brought me there. I told them it was for an article that I was writing. One of them looked at me and then announced in a wonderfully grave and mysterious tone:
spirits. But, say when I’m on the Luas on my way into work, and there’s a man sitting near me with this smile on his face, as if he knows some secret that I don’t, that could be Loki - the mischievous god. Or when I’m walking down Grafton Street and a woman walks past me that is so beautiful that I can’t stop looking at her, that could be Freyja - the goddess of love and beauty. I’m not saying that they definitely are, but they could be. I don’t go in for blind faith. That’s no good to anyone. I like the kind of faith that makes me doubt and constantly question myself. It’s good for personal development.” I did not know what to make of this so I kept nodding and smiling, as my brain tried to reconcile the friendly young man in front of me with the words that were coming out of his mouth.
“You’ll get what you need.”
The other person involved in this conversation was Sue - a mother of two from Dublin’s south inner-city. We got to talking about her daughter, who was getting ready for her communion. I asked her why the daughter of a self-identified witch would be making her first communion. “She doesn’t want to feel left out,” Sue replied. “The other kids would probably bully her. Where we live isn’t a great place to be different. Anyway, she’s dying to put on the white dress and go around visiting all our relatives. Why not? It’s all the same when you strip it down. All faiths have one core. Be nice to each other. Don’t go around killing people. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. It’s all the extra bits added on by humans that mess things up.” On her personal faith she said: “For me magic is very mundane. It’s built into the way I live my life. I do perform rituals but I make them up as I go along. It’s all based on my own intuition.”
Not having the spiritual gravitas to reply to this without betraying my awkwardness or scepticism, I just mumbled something like “oh good” and went to get a pint. When I came back I began to talk to two of the more recent attendees: Joan and Sue. Joan is Danish. He lives and works in Ireland and comes to these meetings because he enjoys being in touch with the pagan community, and discovering the common strands of the various traditions. His own faith is Norse paganism - of which the most commonly known gods are Thor and Loki. He told some stories from Norse mythology and I asked him if they were more than just myths to him. “They are a sacred text for me,” he replied, “insofar as I believe that they contain ancient wisdom and I can learn something from them. But I don’t take them literally.” Fair enough, I thought, that’s pretty much my own view on mythology, except I wouldn’t go so far as calling it sacred. Then I asked him if he believed in the Norse gods in a spiritual sense or if he also thought that they could incarnate themselves physically, as in the stories that he had just told. “Both, in a way,” he said. “I definitely believe in these gods as
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Our conversation came to a halt when the place was called to order so that the evening’s talk could begin. Every month, a guest speaks about an aspect of paganism. This is followed by a group discussion. This month’s talk was called The Dance Between the Veils. Janet, the speaker, discussed the concept of the
supernatural veil that divides this world from the other world. Many pagans believe that this veil tears or becomes very thin around the time of Halloween. According to them, this is why strange things happen around this time of year. I was pleasantly surprised to find that a lot of what was said was related to how to live your life in the best way possible and develop yourself as a person. It was a system of belief that, despite seeming bizarre to me, had definite practical applications in terms of getting your shit together. However, I still found it hard to reconcile the friendly, intelligent people around me with some of what they were saying. I couldn’t bring myself to take it seriously. For example, when a conversation broke out about fairies in people’s back gardens, I thought I myself had slipped through the veil into a parallel universe. Fairies? In your back garden? Seriously? “Yes! Absolutely! And these weren’t little fluttery things. These were big fuck-off fairies!” Somebody actually said that. There are people in Dublin in 2012 who think they have massive fairies in their back gardens. But then, there are people in Dublin in 2012 who think that when a priest blesses what is essentially a glorified wafer (pun intended) it becomes the actual body of Jesus Christ. There are plenty of people who think that the woman who magically created that same body in her virgin womb floated around some village in Mayo a hundred years ago. People believe a lot of things. And they probably always will. These pagans are no crazier than many other religious people. Also, they are so used to being judged that they wouldn’t dream of disrespecting anyone else’s beliefs or lack of therein. They see the world how they see it because of personal experience. If you call them crazy, you have to call any person of faith crazy, which I’m not in the business of doing. So while I won’t be going back, I wish them the best of luck. And on the off-chance that they are right, be careful with your fireworks this year. You don’t want to rip a hole in the veil and have a bunch of big fuck-off fairies coming through to kick the shit out of you.
For this broadly Halloween-themed Black Milk fashion shoot, we were graciously allowed to shoot in the near-ancient crypt in Christ Church Cathedral. We may have accidentally set off the alarm at one one point, but it was fine. - Ed. Photographer: Chloe Keoghan Models: Yvonna Dwyer (Blonde) Karen Carty (Brunette) Stylist Assistant: Aoife Considine
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FASHION THE PRINCE OF PRINTS BY AOIFE CONSIDINE This is a rags to riches story… literally. James Lillis was broke, but instead of buying a shirt to put on his back, he bought a second hand sewing machine with the last of his Australian dolla and made a shirt from the cheapest fabric he could find, and put that on his back. His material of choice was nylon lining, not dissimilar to the polyester/elastane mix that now graces the bodies of girls the world over who have bought into the Black Milk phenomenon. Black Milk is an online Australian clothing brand built by James Lillis from the ground up. Starting as just himself sewing a pair of printed leggings for a friend of a friend, he now has a powerful team behind him, pumping out thousands of dresses, skirts, bodysuits and leg-
gings in a lycra-esque material all in eclectic prints. In the past there have been prints of paintings by Dali, Klimt and Van Gogh, “Jaws” themed swimsuits, skeletal bodysuits and leg bone leggings, even circuit board print for the nerd in us all, not to mention their most recently releases Star Wars collection. You name it; they more than likely have it on leggings. From such a simple idea has come a massive online following, almost cult-like, of girls posting their Black Milk purchases and stylings on Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr. Lillis says himself that making the decision to be a solely online brand was a very difficult one but has luckily worked out in his favour. Due to this obsessive, underground following, and the fact that so much of Black Milk’s designs centre around Halloween themes, I thought what better way to celebrate the season than to stage a Halloween photo shoot centered around the brand. So, for an eclectic take on Halloween, or simply just to check out the awesomeness that is Black Milk, log on to www. blackmilkclothing.com. What’s better still, they deliver worldwide. Happy Black Milk Halloween!
MENSWEAR BY DARACH MAC MATHÚNA Landing back in Dublin from Paris; I reached a sad conclusion. I was, ironically, in dire need of some fashion therapy. I’m not talking about a Gok-Wan style ego massage, telling me I’m beautiful just the way I am. I mean sitting down and taking a step back from everything to do with clothes. Earlier that summer, armed with a fairly jaded and perhaps over-judgmental view on men’s fashion in Ireland I had given Dublin the finger and headed to do an internship chez Lanvin. And so I went headfirst into the belly of the Paris fashion beast. I’m not going to lie, June 2012 was riddled with my constant bitching about the lack of style which seemed to characterise how lads were dressed in college. I felt that the oft-mentioned begrudging and slagging culture us Irish are known for had harboured a deep suspicion in the Irish male of anything remotely to do with fashion and I felt that this was having a serious impact on the Dublin street style landscape. The constant and inappropriate sportswear mob was driving me mad and I was convinced that a splash of Paris wouldn’t go amiss. My dismay with style in Ireland took over and instead of focusing on myself and my vision of style I was hating on people’s wardrobe choices in the same way they couldn’t accept mine. It was a strange time for sure. So how do I feel about the whole Trinity fashion scene now? It took a few weeks but I finally got to a point where I realised that style is completely subjective and although I have a lot to say about men’s and women’s fashion in this university, I need to be sure I’m not expressing it from an excessively critical or idealistic place. I know that there are people who are miles ahead of me in their acceptance of the fact that all one can offer is an opinion. You either like it, or you don’t; but this is still new to me. Facing up to the fashion-reality of Dublin taught me that style is based on rigid criteria. One person’s appreciation of another person’s style will almost always be different to someone else’s because their criteria are so damn narrow. Style is made up of life experience, of the clothes you have worn and bought, the films you have seen and advertisements and aesthetically pleasing images that have subliminally influenced you. The way most lads dress in Trinity won’t fit into my fashion story or conform to what I think is stylish. What I am looking out for this side of Christmas is one or two occasions where I can look at the way a guy is dressed and appreciate certain elements of his style if not the outfit in its totality. Maybe it’s the cut of his shirt, its colour, a tear in the fabric, a tailored twist, a deconstructed jacket – something –anything -that will help me keep building my own narrative and add another layer to Trinity’s developing street style. At the risk of it sounding like I dabbled in nudism, taking a step back from clothes in September allowed me to re-examine style in college. I’ve taken a new perspective on things and I’m really enthousiastic about trying to get a handle on what is happening with men’s fashion in the arts block or on Nassau Street. I’d also like to tease out the different aspects of the Trinity wardrobe while also concentrating on some vintage ideas. The time I spent in Paris gave me the opportunity to get hands-on experience with quality clothing, be it Japanese tailoring or Italian belt companies or Ossendrijvers’ creations for men (but I’ll leave that one ‘til my next article). I’m really keen on examining the idea of quality over the next couple of weeks and bumping into those stylish lads and lassies around college because I’m convinced that there are some wardrobe gems gliding around the arts block, and hopefully further afield, only waiting to be discovered.
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WE’RE ALL INSURGENTS NOW AN INTERVIEW WITH BARATUNDE THURSTON to journalism, and to computer programming. So I had a very analytical way of understanding the world. That strongly affected what I would later do, including the humour.
O
ne of the main speakers at the Web Summit held in Dublin between the 16th and 18th of October, Baratunde Thurnston is a political comedian, journalist, writer and web 2.0 troubadour.
Former Web editor and Politics editor for the American satirical magazine The Onion, which he left in March after five years, he is now working on Cultivated Wit, a creative platform that includes ideas such as Shout Roulette, where two people can shout at each other and argue over a certain topic on video chat – “Mitt Romney is sexy” and “women can’t drive” are among the most popular. Q. What was Newsphlash? Did Newsphlash and the Crimson inform the way you think and approach work? A. Hahaha, nobody has ever asked me about that, I’m impressed. News Flash was a revolutionary grassroots operation of one. I was the grassroots. It was an email newsletter that I ran during my years at Harvard, and a few years after, but mostly as a college thing. I had just begun playing with humour. I was a very serious child, very political, very self-righteous and very sure of myself. I had very clear ideas of right and wrong. So when I got to University, I was really obsessed with news, and I joined the Crimson, which is the Student News-
paper there, and became pretty disappointed in my classmates for not knowing things. We’re in Harvard, so they’re supposed to know everything right? But they didn’t know who the leader of this country or that country was, so rather than bitch about it, I wanted to be a part of the solution. I was just sending it to friends, my mailing list was almost all black people, maybe 1 or 2 white, just for legal purposes. It covered the local level, campus news, then also national and international politics. One of the things I wrote about was the Bosnian conflict, and every time I referred to Slobodan Milosevic, it would be as “Slobodan MyBallsItch. Which of course, I thought was hilarious. The first book I ever published is called “Better than crying”, and it is mostly highlights of Newsphlash. Q. So then to what extent did your experience in Newsphlash and the Crimson change your ambitions? A. College was a very important transition, not so much personality-wise because I think I’ve maintained who I am, but in terms of attitude and skill. I did a lot of writing in college, and I wasn’t really a writer before that. I did a lot of math and science, but I took an English class in my first semester and did really well in it, and with that and Newsphlash, I thought “oh shit, I can write”. I studied analytical philosophy in college, which involves a lot of logical deconstruction, and that applies
Q. So how did you get from college to The Onion? A. I graduated school, and I took what has become a very typical job for Ivy League graduates; at a consulting company. It’s very vague, but basically you get a bunch of smart kids who don’t know much about anything in particular, but know a lot in general, and then you use them to destroy the economy. Actually, that’s investment banking, but consulting is about professional business advice. So I went to work for a very small firm that focused on telecommunications, the future infrastructure of the internet, and media in general. The clients that they worked for were investors who wanted to know what was coming up: “how do we value this company, what is their competition”. So in Ireland say, it would be like Eircom asking us the best way to roll out broadband. I did that for a year, and then quit and tried to start a venture capital company. That was a terrible mistake. The first internet bubble had just burst, and we didn’t know that at the time. So the idea was to help very early stage companies form , our friends who were still in college basically, whose ideas weren’t fully formed enough to fully launch a company, but had enough potential to develop. But that didn’t work out, so I did some temp office work for a while, I was a bouncer at a nightclub which was very irritating because when you do that everyone is a liar; its everybody’s birthday, everybody has friends inside, everybody was just in there. I ended up going back to consulting but when I went back, I started writing again, and started doing stand-up. My self-published book came out of that period, I started a political blog called Jack and Jill Politics with a friend, and started getting media attention. Then in 2007 I moved to New York. I met a woman in 2006 from Comedy Central who asked me “have you moved to New York yet?” To her it was an offhand comment, but to me it was a mandate, as far as I was concerned, Comedy Central had just told me I had to move to New York City. Then I heard about the Politics Editor job at the Onion, and three weeks after I moved to New York I applied. I had a political blog, and a political book, and I’m a stand-up comic, so I was like “they need me.” I went through way more interviews than I did at the corporate jobs, they accepted me and I accepted them, and I was hired in 2008 as politics editor and web editor; two jobs, one low price. Q. So what were you doing in The Onion specifically? A. I was tasked to create a separate website that would focus and expand on our political coverage for the election. It was called “War for the White House” which was The Onion, but had its own website. They supplied me with a designer, and I came in with a mandate to create new content and new types of content that the writers would follow through on. So I studied all the political websites, I did wire-framing exercises with the designer and we came up with all this different kind of content, and I went to the writers saying “we’re going to do all this great stuff!” and they were like “who the fuck are you, why are you making me do more work, and will I actually be paid for this extra work?” They were really exhausted after just finishing Our Dumb World (The Onion’s annotated atlas), so they were burned out. I was a new guy, I hadn’t been an intern and I hadn’t been a contributor, so nobody knew who I was. It took a while to earn everyone’s trust, but I did over the ensuing months, and we made some pretty funny stuff together.
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anyone or are you just shouting?” If it’s just a one-way blast, then that’s annoying. Communications are two-way now and you can do so many more interesting things. But it’s not about a “correct use”, but which way is most interesting, or the difference between posting a joke on twitter and setting up a fake twitter account, be it Binders of Women or Invisible Obama; personifying something and creating a character. The start-up costs are just setting up the twitter handle, and then utilising whatever talent you have. That’s it. When Clint Eastwood spoke to the chair and there was the Invisible Obama twitter account, yeah it was a clever-ish enough idea but it wasn’t hilarious, but it’s still cool that it happened, and then bar gets raised. What are memes if not shared jokes that embody a seed of an idea everyone can agree is at least kind of funny. I mean there’s a lot of crap music out there; it’s not a problem, it just happened. The internet is mostly crap, but people are mostly crap. We have moments of glory and that carries us through the dark times. Okay, I’m being a bit extreme, but just because you can make a joke on twitter doesn’t make you a comedian, and just because you can strum a few chords doesn’t make you a video-music rockstar, and you don’t necessarily deserve that status. We’re in this transition where a lot of the incentive is fame and people want to be famous. They want attention, and there’s a sense of entitlement there. The odds of breaking in are different. The number of truly exceptional artists has probably not shifted that much, but the ways you succeed as an exceptional artist have changed significantly.
Q: You were there for five years, did the job change much over your time there? A. Ohhh yeah. Across the two job titles, one was a lot of brainstorming and presentations, and the other was political coverage which was a lot faster. The paper moves very slowly and we couldn’t afford to move at its speed because politics in America happens very quickly. I brought a lot of technology into the Onion; people used to print everything out and do everything by hand, but my team used google docs for everything. I was kind of the in-house IT person because the company IT guy was based in Chicago, so everybody knew “oh Baratunde knows computer stuff.” I helped create a bunch of new comedy platforms: we did stuff integrated with google maps, and we started blogging with eight different character blogs for the campaign, including a 5 month old fetus, a junior high school class president, and a diner owner whose political opinions were based on the fact she was annoyed that candidates visited all her competitors diners but not hers. Then as the election wound down, my job was primarily as web editor, and that’s where the heart of my job actually began; thinking about how The Onion exists on the web, and how we could monetize that. We’d also started doing a lot of video content, doing three videos a week at its height, which was really hard but also some of the best stuff we did. So I kind of became the in-house online strategist. Q. So you were around when The Onion was supposedly bought by Yu Wan Mei amalgamated salvage fisheries and polymer injection group? A. That was one of the best things I’ve ever been a part of in my life. It was magic. That was one of our first instances of doing something really powerful with the web. (For one week, The Onion claimed to have been bought by a conglomerate based in China). We’d already live-tweeted election stuff before any other news organisations started doing that, but with Yu Wan Mei, we took on the personality of this corporation, and encouraged our twitter followers to change their avatars to the Yu Wan Mei logo to demonstrate loyalty, and we used thet hashtag “fish time is success time.” Even the online store was turned over to Yu Wan Mei products entirely, and we had one product called “the Yu Wan Mei device” which was a black box with an antennae and a blinking light, which cost $5000 and the description was “the Yu Wan Mei device is now available.” And some guy actually bought it. And we freaked out, we were like “what do we do? There’s no such thing!” So he cancelled his order, and we sent him this long collection letter on Yu Wan Mei stationary, saying that he was bringing dishonour on his family for cancelling, and he took that letter and put it online, so it was really nice that he got to be a part of the joke.
I went to the writers saying “we’re going to do all this great stuff!” and they were like “who the fuck are you, why are you making me do more work, and will I actually be paid for this extra work?”
Q. Were you involved in the decision to bring in a paywall for nonAmerican visitors to The Onion’s website? A. The paywall was something that happened while I was there, but I wasn’t a part of the decision. I apologise to the rest of the world for that. To my knowledge it’s still just an experiment. I value the experiment, but I think we have to rethink the sources of funding for internet activities. I’m not a proponent of simple paywalls where you pay for something you’ve already been getting, but yeah give me money for new experiences you can’t replicate anywhere else. So it’s about creating a sense of belonging and of community, like that letter that we sent that guy; he was involved in the joke to a personal extent. There’s an opportunity, for example, for people to commit their photos for use in the product, or to observe the writers room if not participate in it, so that they feel a part of a club. That relationship is one based on membership then, rather than it being strictly a customer relationship. The other challenge is that if you’re a new company, you can do whatever you want, but if you have established habits that people are accustomed to, it’s harder to change. People will have a strong sense of entitlement to whatever the status quo is. The Onion paywall is a safe experiment though, because the bulk of the traffic is from the U.S. Q. In other interviews you sometimes talk about media organisations using social media incorrectly. What is the correct way to use social media? A. Here’s the deal, there’s a way to participate in the new system that you can claim to be a part of it without doing anything innovative with it. For a news organisation to use twitter to just post a link to an article and then say “oh we’re on twitter,” then yeah, you’re on it, but you’re not in it, you’re not of it, you’re an outsider struggling with the language. That’s a natural part of the evolution, but if you stay there, then that will be a problem. I look at twitter accounts and say “are you talking to
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Q. Do you ever find yourself getting running-away excited about the new potential offered by the internet though, and say “is this hyperbole” or are we actually riding the wave of a legitimate communications revolution? A. I believe that completely new things are possible because of the massive redistribution of power; in large part because of technology and the communications shift, but I also believe that things move much more slowly. So I believe both, and that’s a little bit incoherent. But I just saw Wael Ghonim, the Egyptian activist who set up the facebook page for Tahrir square, speak a little while ago, and he said “I’m training myself to accept that revolution is a process and not an event”, and I think that lesson applies to so many things. We’re just at the beginning of something, potentially, truly extraordinary. When you have everyone able to use a 3D printer, and design and make something that works for them on a micro scale, rather than something mass produced by a big corporation for a massive general market which never really existed in a way they could address, that’s interesting. When you can teach a skill to someone using something like Skillshare, and when anyone can create an event that topples a regime; not alone but with concert with people on the ground, holy shit. Then when you look at the data and what’s happening in life sciences; we probably can’t imagine what will happen because we’re not in the environment where we even understand what’s possible. So that’s exciting, but at the same time, there are a lot of threats to that future. Anyone with power in the current system whether its copyright holders, political institutions, or really any institution that’s threatened by the redistribution of power, will try to delay or subvert that redistribution. Everything is theoretically up for grabs, but reaching that necessary tipping point requires a certain level of education on the part of the broad population in general, and a certain amount of free access before things get locked down. The iPad is a great example, it’s a great consumer device, but it’s tethered by Apple and it isn’t designed to generate, it’s for consumption. There’s a great book by a guy called Jonathan Zittrain called “The Future of the Internet and How to Stop it” about this. Q. It seems like the new expectation to break into media is that you build up your own personal “brand” with blogs and podcasts, which you then use to try and get a job. For you was that intentional? A. I don’t think my path is for everyone, I don’t think everyone should be giving speeches all the time and writing books, and being this publicity machine. But I just followed a natural progression.
Q. Has it ever affected your sense of self? A. Oh yeah, but I have a strong sense of self that I think is resilient to erosion by excessive public appearances, but there is definitely a cost in terms of energy and exhaustion. I didn’t set out to be a “brand” but it was never far from possibility because I’ve been performing my whole life. My advantage in this emerging environment is that I’ve been on stage physically a lot already, and I love attention. I’m a bit of an ego, I like making people laugh, and that serves me well as an exhibitionist in the digital world. But it hass only come in waves of acknowledgement that I’ve done this “Baratunde” thing. It usually comes from external stimulus when people come up to me and ask to get a photo with me, or more creepily, I’ll be hanging out and I’ll hear someone say “I just spotted Baratunde at wherever” when they could just come up and say hi, but they feel I’m not approachable. So I recognise there is some a bit of a politician in me, and there is a performer in me, so I just want to see if I can channel that. We’re all becoming more free agents in general, so we have to be a bit more independent. Maybe not more individual though, given the increasing scope for more collaborative engagement in whatever you’re doing. The barriers of entry to so many things are so much lower if you have the prerequisites, there have always been good ideas everywhere, but there are so many more people in the system across barriers we thought were insurmountable. There’s cause for optimism and pessimism, but the optimism comes from the idea that the scale of our ability to co-ordinate is greater than it’s ever been. Otherwise the most dominant force would remain the most dominant force and insurgents would never win. We’re all insurgents now. There, that’s your headline.
Interview by Tommy Gavin and Maria Giulia Agostini
D
anielle Harris has starred in variety of films ranging from Halloween 4 (1988) and Stakeland (2010). Her recent directorial debut, Among Friends, a story of a dinner party gone wrong, sees her visit the Dublin Horrorthon in the IFI as a guest of honour. I spoke to her about her recent change to behind the camera, her views on horror and what films give her the willies. Your directorial debut Among Friends is a central focus point of the Horrorthon. How does being in front of the camera compare with working behind it? I actually prefer being behind the camera even though it’s an enormous amount of work. Until I stepped into the director shoes, I had no idea to be honest. I have had extremely challenging roles an as actress, but nothing compares to the level that you have to push yourself to as a director. What drew you to this story as a director specifically? Among Friends came to me through my good friend Jennifer Blanc. She knew I had been looking for the right script that was in the genre and had strong characters. Especially strong female characters. I also knew Alyssa Lobit the writer through Jennifer, but had never seen or read any of Alyssa’s work. Jen sent me the script. I loved the story, but felt if I were to be on board we needed to start over, so Alyssa and I began the process. It just worked and we clicked right away through the changes that we both wanted to make and Alyssa trusted my knowledge of what the fans want to see on screen, so we began making the changes together. As a director who would you like to work with next? I think I’ve had my share of women for a minute, so I’m working on finding a script that is a bit more male dominated. I love directors like Katherine Bigelow who can get down and dirty and tackle a very strong masculine story and absolutely kill it!! (In a good way of course) AND for some reason I have always been cast opposite men that were older than me who have all become either father figures or I’ve had a secret crush on for years that are brilliantly talented and would love to direct. I found it a bit more difficult to gain respect from some of the men on my set, so I feel like now that I’ve already earned respect from some of
the actors I’ve starred opposite, there is already a mutual respect. The horror genre usually gets a lot of flak. People seem to think of it as following a simple formula and that it is often misogynistic. What would you say to those people? Then don’t watch them. Do you think that horror has anything to say or is it just scary fun? It depends on the film and the purpose. Just like any other film, it’s the director’s job to convey the message. Whatever that message is. Whether it’s silly, scary fun or a woman/man finding strength to battle the monster. Do you think that being a female director gives your horror specifically a different slant? I think that I had a vision that was very specific. One thing that was very important to me was that anything sexual or violent be visually minimal and extreme in audio. I think being a woman, I felt like we don’t need to show it to sell it. Most of the time the imagination is much stronger than anything that can be filmed practically with our time and budget. That’s why books are always better than movies and why Michael Myers is scarier with the mask on. You, the audience, gets to put the picture in place and then allow for a more personal experience. There is a very strong feminine theme to the Horrorthon this year. How do you feel about female characters in horror? Do you think they have developed over the years or changed in any way? I think the feminine in general has evolved with time in all areas. There are still the stereotypical female characters that make up the typical horror formula. In my movie, Among Friends we have the type A smarty pants, good girl next door, the bitch, and the hot lesbian druggie. Same with the male characters. We have the dumb jock, the douche model type, and the funny guy that doesn’t usually get the girl. All pretty typical for a horror movie, but I went and took the script and its characters and turned it on its head. I wanted to take the typical and rough it up a bit. Give it a twist and make different choices than what I’ve been seeing on the screen for the last decade or three!
BALLAD OF A SCREAM QUEEN AN INTERVIEW WITH HORROR ROYALTY, DANIELLE HARRIS BY CAROLINE EGAN
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I liked the way Stakeland was a mixture of an end-of-the world type film where anyone can be a victim, no matter their age or vulnerability. Can you see any new themes emerging from the horror genre? Unfortunately Stakeland is a rare gem. Scripts in the genre that have an original story and are as well written as directed emotionally and visually are hard to find. I think there are a ton of copycats and as soon as something works, everyone jumps on the same train. I mean, how many 3D movies, remakes, and Paranormal Activities are they really making?? I guess as long as we still pay to see them, they’ll keep turning them out. What style of horror interests you most generally? Depends on my mood. I know all the secrets so it’s hard for me to watch a horror movie and not pick it apart. I like a good story first, then something a little creative and different. I appreciate people taking a chance and risking a little. Why not?? The fans are dying for something new, so what’s the point of making movies if you aren’t being creative and creating something special. Not everyone has to like it and not everyone will, but mediocre and “vanilla” or “safe” is just plain boring in my opinion. Do you think that there are certain types of horror that you would rather star in than watch or vice versa? I like watching women characters fight for their lives and win. I am the girl in the theatre that cheers, but I’m kind of done emotionally as an actress taking on those roles. It really messes with your health after a while. I started having a lot of issues with my health in 2007 when I started doing a lot of genre films. I sometimes wonder if putting myself through all that I have to go through in character takes a toll and has made me sick. I mean, my body has no idea that I’m “acting” and am not really in fight or flight mode. It has no idea that I’m pretending to be raped or tortured. I’ve really had to be selective this last year because it isn’t worth it to me. I never wanted to be a famous actress, I’ve just loved being a part of the process of working. The hard core roles that I could get recognition for as an actress because of the intensity of the role, I have had to pass on lately until I get my mind and body healed and healthy. What recent horror films have tickled your fancy? My fancy is tickled when I watch the movies that scared me as a kid. Films that are nostalgic to me like Poltergeist and Gremlins. You’ve been in quite a few different horror films from Urban Legend (1998) to Stakeland (2010) to Hatchet 2 (2010) so you obviously enjoy working in horror. Do you feel that horror is the only genre that you want to work in or would you like to work in other genres? I just like being on set. I would LOVE to have a break from horror for a while and go do a good romantic comedy where I get to wear pretty clothes and make up. It would be a vacation for me!! The blood and dirt and night shoots in the freezing cold or steamy swamps are only fun for a little while and then it’s all work. Aside from Among Friends what can we expect to see from you in the future? Looking for my next film to direct. I have been working on a script for over a decade about my father and the crazy circumstances surrounding his death. It would be my passion project and I would also star in it, but it’s been unresolved within myself for such a long time, so I’ve had a really hard time writing it. I’m in a different place in my life and growth, so I’m dusting it off and gonna hit the ground running. I’ve always been accessible and open about events in my life, but this story is very personal and I think people would see me in a different light knowing that it would be loosely based on my real life. I think I’m ready to make it happen though. After all, what do I have to lose right?? Danielle Harris will introduce her film and take part in a post-screening Q&A along with members of cast and crew. Film showing: Saturday 27th October 2012 21.00. Tickets €9. IFI Box Office 01 679 3477.
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HORRORTHON
LOOKING TO HAVE THE ECTOPLASM SCARED OUT OF YOU? BY CAROLINE EGAN
T
he Dublin Horrorthon originally started as a one day event in 1998, showing classics such as Re-Animator and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. 14 years later it is still here, but now with five days and a host of special celebrity guests. This year sees 32 films, 23 Irish screen premieres and Halloween 4 star Danielle Harris show how the event has grown and developed into something much bigger and scarier. So how has the Horrorthon changed over the years, from a two film screening, to the massive deal it is now? According to spokesman Chris O’Neill, “It’s changed in terms of growth and credibility. The festival really gained a lot of attention with the Irish premiere of 28 Days Later, which had director Danny Boyle and cast present. It was then that the festival was really acknowledged as an important annual event.” Over the years, guests that have visited the event include : Brian Yuzna (Re-Animator), Naomi Harris (Now a Bond girl in Skyfall), Ruggero Deodato (Cannibal Holocaust), Michael Biehn (Terminator / Aliens) and this year famed scream queen Danielle Harris. I was at the 28 Days Later screening. It was a strange experience to sit in a room with Danny Boyle and Cillian Murphy, when he was in the row just in front of me during his brief naked stint at the beginning of the movie. The closeness of the entire reality, celebrities and fans and the Q & A sessions, imply an intimacy that other genre festivals may not be able to pull off. It basically gives fans the chance to ask directors and stars ridiculous questions but there
is something so good natured and friendly about the whole thing that it lacks the usual contrived relationship between fans and celebrities.
Barker’s 1990 film Nightbreed - The Cabal Cut, featuring Davin Cronenberg, a group of mutants try to steer clear of people who wish them harm.
Not only does the Horrorthon screen older films such as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Nightbreed, Aliens and comedy Young Frankenstein for those who have not seen them on the big screen before, but it also attempts to acquire a more worldly view of horror. Films such as the bizarre Japanese Tomie Unlimited, based on the comic of the same name, and German film Urban Explorer were both featured in 2011. This year Chris states that we can look forward to Canadian movies: ‘American Mary from the Soska Sisters and Manborg from the Astron-6 team are two examples which are in the Horrorthon programme. Several horror films have started emerging from Ireland, too - Citadel is one of this year’s best and it’s screening at Horrorthon’. The less said about Shrooms the better…
Quite a wide range of horror tastes are catered to. Perhaps the most controversial element of the Horrorthon is the twist of the surprise film, which unfortunately has often been hit-or-miss, particularly with the like of films such as Shrooms and Trespass. However, other films like Let Me In and Paranormal Activity provide the upshot, so the Horrorthon does retain a few surprises up its proverbial sleeve.
Most anticipated films this year include Silent Hill Revelation, where character Heather Mason searches for her father in a strange alternative reality, Excision, where an aspirational med student goes to extreme lengths to prove that she is worthy of the profession, American Mary, another medical horror film about a girl becoming involved with a ‘freakish’ underground community due to her disillusionment at modern mainstream medicine. The list goes on with Among Friends, Danielle Harris’ directorial debut (see interview) about a dinner party gone wrong and Clive
I’m personally looking forward to V/H/S, where a group of “misfits” (of course) are commissioned to break into a house and steal a VHS tape. Upon reaching their destination, they find a room of tapes, and understandably have a difficult time trying to work out which is the one that they need. So…they watch the tapes… and you can guess where this goes. From the trailer it appears to mix and match gore, paranormal and creepy serial killer genres but it truly looks amazing as it spirals out into six different stories. The film is shot in a found footage format AKA camcorder point of view (such as in [Rec] and Paranormal Activity) which seem to have nobody sitting on the fence. In other words, people either really like them or hate them. It looks creepy and is an unusual combination of different types of horror. It would be interesting to see where the story lines are taken. I know I am going to scream. I just don’t know how much.
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There have been no horror stories from the Horrorthon itself fortunately, as everything seems to run according to plan. Selection of the films themselves is based on a general understanding of what the horror-going public want to watch. ‘Sometimes films can drop out or not be granted screenings for whatever reason,’ Chris says ‘but we’ve been pretty lucky over the years with great co-operation from distributors and sales agents. However, a few years ago, some poor guy fainted at the screening of Mum and Dad. That’s rare that it happens. Although completely packed during the Horrorthon, the IFI easily lends itself to feeling part of a growing horror community in Dublin. ‘When it comes to the horror genre it’s more than just watching films, there’s the social aspect of it as well,’ Chris explains. ‘Many people have made lots of new friends through attending the festival, something
The closeness of the entire reality, celebrities and fans and the Q & A sessions, imply an intimacy that other genre festivals may not be able to pull off
that doesn’t happen whenever you just go to the cinema.’ With 32 films showing this year and passes ranging from one to five days, it is easy to see how people could spend the entire five days here, and if horror fans are nothing else, they are at least enthusiastic, and what says enthusiastic more than spending five solid days taking up shop at a horror festival? The Horrorthon has grown and developed gradually over the last 14 years but why has it maintained such momentum? Perhaps it is because this sense of informality has stripped away the pretensions that could accompany other genres or festivals. Where else in the bar would you hear two guys giggling over a rake going through someone’s skull, and nod in agreement rather than mentally noting their physical characteristics to be later related to law enforcement officials?
Tickets are on sale now from the Irish Film Institute (www.ifi.ie / (01) 679-3477), with opening and closing films costing €10; other movies €9 and a range of festival passes also available. IFI Daily Membership (€1) or IFI Annual Membership (€25) is required for all films. IFI Horrorthon Schedule
SCHEDULE THURSDAY
FRIDAY
SATURDAY
SUNDAY
MONDAY
OCTOBER
OCTOBER
OCTOBER
OCTOBER
OCTOBER
19.30 Opening Film: Antiviral
13.00 Manborg
12.30 Eurocrime!
11.00 Short Film Showcase
14.20 Midnight Son
15.00 V/H/S
14.00 The Monster Squad 25th Anniversary Screening
16.30 Calibre 9
17.10 Dracula: Prince of Darkness
18.30 Citadel + Q&A with director Ciarán Foy
19.00 American Mary
25 26 27 28 29 21.50 Room 237 23.50 Detention of the Dead
20.30 Silent Hill: Revelation 22.30 Double Bill: Zombie Flesh Eaters/ Deep Red 23.00 Slice and Dice: The Slasher Film Forever 23.15 Rites of Spring
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21.00 Among Friends + Q&A with director Danielle Harris 23.15 Young Frankenstein 23.15 Tulpa 23.30 Bad Meat
16.00 Shiver ntroduced by Danielle Harris 18.20 IFI Horrorthon Surprise Film 20.30 Excision 22.20 Halloween III: Season of the Witch 30th Anniversary Screening 23.00 The Devil’s Business 23.00 After
13.00 Nightmare Factory 14.40 The Burning Moon 16.20 Sleep Tight 18.15 Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers Introduced by Danielle Harris 20.20 Closing Film: Nightbreed: The Cabal Cut
FILM Werewolf: The Beast Among Us
Robert O’Reilly The werewolf perhaps stands somewhere in the middle ground of famous horror characters, not quite as cinematically successful as his onscreen rivals Dracula and Frankenstein, but far better represented than the likes of the Mummy. We might even see the werewolf as being a decidedly middle-class horror incarnation, with the vampire holding its own in the upper classes of society, while the zombie slogs it out in the working class field of horror. But apart from George Waggner’s The Wolfman from 1941, starring the great Lon Chaney Jr. as the shape-changing title character, the werewolf has not very often been successfully portrayed on film. Joe Johnston’s 2010 remake of Waggner’s classic was a bit hairy to say the least, Dog Soldiers had more bark than bite, and the less said about the beastly Teen Wolf the better. However, that is not to say that a few interesting werewolf movies haven’t howled their way to cinematic success over the years. Ginger Snaps (which compares lycanthropy to puberty) is certainly up there with the best of them; An American Werewolf in London and The Howling have both already established themselves as genre classics; Neil Jordan’s The Company of Wolves is desperately underrated; and if you’re in the mood for some monstrously cheesy Iberian schlock, some of Paul Naschy’s early ‘70s Spanish werewolf films are also worthy of a nibble. So where does Louis Morneau’s Werewolf: The Beast Among Us, the latest werewolf film incarnation from Universal Pictures stand in all this? Well, if 1941’s The Wolfman stands tall and proud in lycanthropic movie terms, then Werewolf: The Beast Among Us is most likely barely standing at all, crouching down in embarrassment with the likes of Blood of the Werewolf and The Beast of Bray Road. Set in a 19th century unnamed East European village (the movie was lensed in Sighisoara, Romania), Morneau’s pic revolves around a group of bounty hunters on the trail of a humongous lycanthrope that is terrifying, and literally eating, the living daylights out of the local townsfolk. Daniel, a young surgeon’s apprentice (played by the decidedly un-hirsute Guy Wilson), decides to leave his studies and join the werewolf posse, much to the chagrin of his extremely cranky looking boss (played by the highly
talented Stephen Rea, who must have been short of a few quid to star in this one). The-naïve-but-means-well Daniel is also hot on the heels of local hottie Eva (Rachel DiPillo), who lives in a fairytale-like abode on the outskirts of town. However, bounty hunter Stefan (Adam Croasdell – who soap opera fans might remember playing Dr. Al Jenkins in Eastenders a few years back… or maybe not actually) has taken a shine to the curly tresses of our princess as well. So, not only does this film have an irritatingly computer-generated werewolf to contend with (I’m seriously beginning to think that CGI stands for Can’t Generate Interest), but a cornball love triangle that is only ever going to end one way as well. Werewolf: The Beast Among Us doesn’t really know whether it’s a horror, a western or indeed a fairytale romance picture, and does none of these genres any justice in the end. The acting is of the hammy variety, but without the apple sauce of genuine conviction, but to be fair to this pretty low budget acting ensemble, they’re not really helped by an abysmal script full of clichéd lines such as: ‘I guess the hunters have become the hunted now’, which would make anybody howl at the moon. This sort of dialogue manages to sink any resemblance of tension that the film has succeeded in building up over its running time, but when director Morneau (Bats, Joy Ride 2), keeps the CGI at a minimum
and allows the film to breath a little bit, without overloading it with characters desperately trying to say something profound, his film is sometimes entertaining. Well, sort of. The movie contains zero nudity (apart from the werewolf of course), which probably won’t please the horror crowd, but it does have some neat scenes of latex grue and head explosions to keep things boiling over. There’s also a ridiculous twist near the end, where another famous horror character faces off against a werewolf, which you might not see coming (I didn’t anyway), and some of the locations used are suitably creepy. Michael Wandmacher’s score could have been a tad more subtle at times it has to be said; his attempts at making the film appear more dramatic only successfully highlighting how un-dramatic it actually is. Hardly a howling success by any stretch of the imagination, Werewolf: The Beast Among Us does try desperately hard to be a decent werewolf-themed horror flick, by seemingly throwing in everything but the kitchen sink, but unfortunately, the film ends up joining the ever-growing list of unsuccessful lycanthrope movies to date. Here’s hoping that somewhere out there is a filmmaker who will one day do the werewolf myth some cinematic justice again, but sadly I get the feeling that it will be a few more full moons yet before that ever happens.
Diarmuid Cushen’s top 10 reasons not to have children this Hallowe’en. ROSEMARY’S BABY ROSEMARY’S BABY
THE SHINING THE GRADY TWINS
THE BUTCHER BOY FRANCIE BRADY
IT’S ALIVE THE BABY
VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED THE CHILDREN
ROMAN POLANSKI // 1968
STANLEY KUBRICK // 1980
NEIL JORDAN // 1996
LARRY COHEN // 1974
WOLF RILLA // 1960
Even though the baby is the spawn of Satan, the true horror of this film is in the events surrounding and subsequent to its birth.
The ghostly innocence of these young girls make them the Overlook Hotel’s two most sinister otherworldly residents.
Not a horror film, but Jordan’s portrait of a psychotic youth in 1960s Ireland is deeply disturbing.
Every parent’s worst nightmare captured in celluloid: giving birth to a murderous, mutant monster.
Famously parodied in The Simpsons, their creepiness is only heightened by their posh British accents. If looks could kill...
THE BAD SEED RHONDA PENMARK
HALLOWEEN YOUNG MICHAEL MYERS
THE INNOCENTS FLORA AND MILES
THE EXORCIST REAGAN
THE OMEN DAMIEN
MERVYN LEROY // 1956
JOHN CARPENTER // 1978
JACK CLAYTON // 1961
WILLIAM FRIEDKIN // 1973
RICHARD DONNER // 1976
An unnerving tale of a seemingly innocent, yet demonic pig-tailed young girl.
In one of cinema’s most perfect single-shot openings, the young antagonist ensures his sister’s deviant sexual exploits are justly punished.
The eeriest adaptation of Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw plays brilliantly on the ambiguity as to whether the kids can really see the ghosts or are just playing mind-games with their governess.
Friedkin’s masterpiece succeeded in changing how mainstream Hollywood looked upon horror film and still packs a punch today.
Undoubtedly the obvious choice, but the sheer evil pleasure derived by the devil’s son throughout the film is chillingly captured in the film’s final, icon frame.
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MUSIC Pig Destroyer Book Burner Grindcore is not a genre for the faint hearted. Visceral vocals, disturbing lyrics, precise and dextrous drumming coupled with complex, multi-faceted guitar and bass parts work together on Pig Destroyer’s latest album Book Burner, and their return after 2007’s highly acclaimed Phantom Limb. Much has happened to the band in this five year interim; having lost their practice space, they built their own studio. They also parted ways with long-time drummer Brian Harvey in 2010. He was replaced with Misery Index’s Adam Jarvis, who does a fine job filling in behind the kit. If you are new to Pig Destroyer, Book Burner may not offer the best access point. The album begins with “Sis”, “The American’s Head”, and “The Underground Man”, all of which contain the elements that Pig Destroyer have become known for: short blast beat sections alternated with breakdowns filled with pitch harmonics and other staple sounds of the genre, while J.R. Hayes’
vocals sear over the top of it all. Hayes is as lyrically sophisticated as ever here, basing his lyrics around an old short story of his called ‘The Atheist’, in which a heavy-handed Christian theocracy burns libraries to the ground and crucifies heretics. The influence of Ray Bradbury’s dystopian Farenheit 451 is evident here, and the echo to this work of bleak satire reflects the album’s musicality. For those familiar with the band’s back catalogue, Book Burner fits in more closely to Prowler in the Yard than it does with Phantom Limb.
For fans of Pig Destroyer, Book Burner will not disappoint, but this reviewer cannot help but think that a new element needs to be injected into their sound before they run the risk of becoming stagnant. The complexity and various layers that made Phantom Limb such an entertaining listen have been stripped back, which I cannot help but feel is a mistake, given that the album’s highlight, “The Bug” follows this pattern.
LIAM MAHER
‘Cloud Rap’ is the new genre that is making the rounds in the hip hop world at the minute. Exemplified by big artists such as A.S.A.P. Rocky, the genre is typified by ethereal, drugged-out and electronic influenced beats coupled with pounding 808 percussion - the staple sound of the southern crunk scene. Main Attrakionz, hailing from north Oakland have been lumped into this scene after dropping their two mix-tapes, The Shady Bambino Project and 808s and Dark Grapes II. On their latest effort, Bossalinis and Fooliyones, Squadda Bambino and Mondre Man expand on the sounds explored on their previous mix-tapes and even indulge in some retro influences on tracks such as the piano heavy “Liquor Runs”. Like most of this new ‘cloud rap’, the main focus of the album is on the production rather than the lyrics. Tracks such as “LFK”, “Do It For The Bay” and the appropriately named “Cloud Body”, with their slow, hazy and spaced out beats showcase what Main Attrakionz do best. Lyrically there is nothing jaw-dropping on display here but the languid, southern influenced drawl of the rapping compliment the beats nicely. There are a few guest appearances too, including Gucci Mane, who lethargically spits over the minimalist “Superstitious” (produced by Zaytoven) to great effect. The album is not without its faults, however. At seventy minutes, it is far too long. If the Attrakionz had trimmed the fit and reduced the album to forty five minutes or so, they would have had a very strong release on their hands. As it stands, the album is difficult to listen to straight through without the listener becoming distracted. The beats do not vary drastically from one another and their flows generally stick to the same patterns and delivery. Main Attrakionz have a lot of potential with their current sound, but they need to learn how to edit effectively before they will be able to create anything that borders on classic status.
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Main Attrakionz Bossalinis and Fooliyones
WHAT WE’RE LISTENING TO Mungo’s HiFi – Babylon Ahead of their return to Dublin on Saturday, we’re listening to reggaedubstep cross over artists Mungo’s Hifi. Before the word “dubstep” was tarnished, there was this 2008 masterpiece with the perfect blend of low frequencies and Jamaican influences.
G.O.O.D. Music – The Morning A stand out track from a truly disappointing album. While the rest of G.O.O.D. Music’s Cruel Summer was almost unlistenable, this track is an exception. It contains great verses from Common, Raekwon and Pusha T, all that remains is to ignore the mush coming out of 2 Chainz’s mouth.
Misfits – Halloween It’s that time of the year again and we’re getting in the mood by listening to a LOT of Misfits and what better track to represent the holiday than Halloween. Glen Danzig and Jerry Only bring the usual Misfits’ rawness along with their trademark gruesome lyrics, “Dead cats hanging from poles”. We remember Halloween.
Joy Orbison – Untitled While it may not have a name at the moment, anyone who’s heard “You Make Me Weak, You Make It So Good Sometimes” will know what’s up. Although this track, just like “Swims” or “Ellipsis”, probably won’t get a release for at least another 8 months, frankly we don’t care. This song is an absolute belter and should be heard in moderation at least for the time being.
Local Natives – Breakers The first single off the new Local Natives’ LP sounds like a new direction for the band. However, it’s a direction that we’re really enjoying. There are a lot of harmonies and a lot of joy in this track somewhat similar to Born Ruffians. Hopefully we can expect this quality from the rest of the album.
Terrence Dixon From The Far Future Part 2 Almost twelve years after its predecessor, Terrence Dixon’s From The Far Future Part 2 has finally been realised. The Detroit minimal techno producer has perhaps made one of the weirdest albums of his career. While Part 1 had a cosy warmth to it, Part 2 seems more like a trippy dream landscape where echoey synthesizers and disorientating bleeps are never too far from hand. Standing at almost an hour and twenty minutes long, it would be a lie to say that the album was not a challenge. However, unlike the challenge of removing gum from one’s shoes, once this challenge is complete it pays off. The CD release contains fourteen tracks of dream-like euphoria giving nods to 1980s’ ambient techno like Mr Fingers, while also taking inspiration from more recent albums like Actress’ 2008 record Hazyville. From the first track, “Self Centred”, one knows that they have entered some space-like dimension where sounds are both out of key and out of time. Every song on the album has some sort of fuzziness to
it, making it sound menacing and scary. “Path to Mystery” is a 124 beats-per-minute creeper of a track that descends into a hauntingly solid kick drum in its last thirty seconds. However, it is not just Dixon’s electronic sounds that feel chilling, it’s also his use of jazz instrumentation as heard on “The Switch” where he twists and turns a saxophone solo beyond recognition. Despite this, Dixon is never too far from his roots. “The Auto Factory” is a metallic assault of sounds that reminds one of a 5am Berghain, while one of the standouts on the album, “Horizon”, is reminiscent of From The Far Future Part 1. Despite this album’s length, it sure is enjoyable. Dixon has created an album that can work for both headphone listening and late night clubbing, despite the fact he might scare some punters away. The twelve-year gap between these two albums has let Dixon analyse his sound and change it up just enough for modern day listeners while also maintaining the original spark From The Far Future Part 1 had.
EOIN HENNESSY
Titus Andronicus Local Business In a recent interview with Pitchfork, lead vocalist of Titus Andronicus, Patrick Stickles said, “you can really judge a song by its title I’ve found.” The preposterous titles on the band’s new album, Local Business, must surely question the truth of this quotation. The third track is titled “Upon Viewing Oregon’s Landscape with the Flood of Detritus” while track two is disturbingly titled “Still Life with Hot Deuce on Silver Platter”, particularly as the word deuce can also refer to a bowel movement. The link between title and content can only really be heard on tracks like “My Eating Disorder” and “I Am The Electric”. While most of the connections aren’t apparent, it doesn’t take away from the fact that Titus Andronicus have made a very compelling album. Only three albums deep and several members later, the Shakespearean named indie rock outfit are back with a fifty-minute onslaught of tracks about car accidents, eating disorders, electrocution and descent into insanity. While their previous two albums have been fairly hard hitting, it seems as if Local Business has taken a slight left turn with some tracks lacking the speed and power heard in their older collection. Stickles’ lyrics on the
album are fantastic and can range from the deeply emotional, as heard in “My Eating Disorder” (“It was my parents that destroyed my brain”), to the hugely hilarious, as in “In a Small Body” (“Your dick is too small to fuck the world”). Despite this, certain tracks on the album seem lifeless and clunky, like the first single off the release, “In a Big City”. In contrast to the vocals, the instrumentals seem repetitive and don’t seem to vary much throughout the record. That’s not to say that all of the tracks sound the same. “Titus Andronicus Vs. The Absurd Universe
3rd Round KO” is a super mix of the Misfits and Dinosaur Jr., while “Food Fight” is a high-speed instrumental made better by a blues harmonica. Whether the tracks on Local Business reflect their content or not, Titus Andronicus have succeeded in making a worthwhile follow up to two brilliant albums.
EOIN HENNESSY
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T H E
A F T E R M A T H
O F
T H E
A F T E R
P A R T Y
EOIN HENNESSY
I
t’s 3am; the club is closing and punters are making their way out into the cold Irish night. Some people have already made their way home, while others sit around looking assessing their options. The more adventurous of the bunch still have some energy left and are determined to make the session go on. The options are very limited; either head to a friend’s house with a handful of people or go to the pre-organised after-party held in a location that is currently unknown to most attendees. While heading to a friend’s house seems like an alright idea, the realisation that most people will pass out on a couch or bed once they get there is clear. After much walking around and fumbling with phone numbers, the location of the after-party is finally disclosed. It’s ten euro on the door and beer and cider can be bought at the venue. A DJ plays on a PA which seems better than the club’s, while people dance their socks off with their last remaining energy. But suddenly, there’s a loud knock at the door and in a matter of minutes Gardaí with torches and reflective jackets usher people back out onto the streets. You’ve just spent twenty euro on admission and booze and now you have to fork out more money on a taxi home. You go home with your head in your hands, feeling scammed and dejected. This, friends, is how the average after-party will go on. While this description may be quite a generalisation, it’s not that far from the truth. Most after-parties will be shut down within two hours of opening, leaving the organiser with a nice wad of cash in their pocket although potentially in trouble with the Gardaí. However, that’s not to say not all after-parties are unsuccessful. There are around three well-organised after-parties in Dublin that are held either on a Friday or Saturday night. While I do not want to disclose the location of these places, if you get in touch with the right people and go to the right club beforehand, you won’t find it that hard to locate one. Parties like this will normally be held after less popular club nights. The likes of Coppers and the Palace won’t be given invites. Afterparties for clubs like these are rare not for any superficial reasons but more for practical capacity reasons. Most secret after-party locations won’t be able to hold the likes of D2’s intake on a Friday or Saturday. That’s why they are suited to smaller scale clubs. The music at after hours venues is also less tailored to the type of music they play in
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mainstream clubs. People coming from the Palace may be frightened when they hear snarling techno like Blawan’s “Why They Hide Their Bodies Under My Garage”. Nevertheless, everyone is welcome at most after-parties which may be part of their breakdowns. In order for an after-party to work, the organiser, whether he/she is a large scale promoter or person with a free gaff, must be prepared to not let certain people in. I am of course talking about the “too madoutovit” people. It is these people who herald the death of the after-party and they are likely to get the party cancelled in two ways. Firstly, they could end up passing-out/seriously injuring themselves due to too much drink or drugs. This results in an ambulance being called and also results in the party being cancelled (not to mention, the possibility of someone dying or being severely hurt). Secondly, these people are more likely to cause trouble, whether it be starting a fight or messing with the DJ’s gear. This again is likely to result in party cancellation. After-parties need the same regulations as clubs if not stricter seeing as they’re illegal. However, let us not place all of the blame on the unfortunate “madoutovits”; after-parties get cancelled for several other reasons too. When throwing a party people must first analyse the venue beforehand, whether it be somewhere they hired or simply in their own house. Normally the biggest issue here is in relation to soundproofing. If your house isn’t detached or very well sound proofed, your party will more than likely be cancelled. When it comes to noise, the issue of a smoking area is also a problem. If people smoke outside it’s more likely Gardaí/neighbours will hear them. Sadly the only way to avoid this is to let people smoke in the venue. The party’s illegal anyway so why should you care. Can Irish people be trusted to take that many precautions? It’s tough to say. We’re known to be a rowdy bunch of heavy drinkers and partiers so in most cases it’s a strong no. However, most Irish people intuitively have a good head on them and know when serious precautions need to be taken. So it really is a roll of the dice whether an afterparty will be cancelled only an hour in or be pumping till 7am. Nevertheless, none of this would even be necessary if wasn’t for the biggest burden of all, Irish Law, in relation to clubbing. Frankly the biggest and most obvious problem
with this law is that according to Irish legislation, there is no such thing as a nightclub. Instead, nightclubs are Public Dance Halls, which are covered under an act that was written in 1935. This is the reason why nightclubs can’t stay open past 3am and hence why after-parties are needed. While groups like the INIA (Irish Nightclub Industry Association) have tried to change this legislation with the backing of the Irish Hotels Federation, the Licenced Vintners Association, Dublin Tourism and the National Taxi Drivers Union, it has been to no avail. When looking at a list of club hours in other European cities, it makes Dublin look pathetic. Every other large European city has a club closing time of at least 4am or 5am with most being around 6am while some clubs are able to remain open for 24 hours a day! These figures illustrate the main problem about Irish clubbing legislation and demonstrate just how backwards it is. So ultimately, is it the way we deal with after-parties which we should look at? Or should we look at the bigger issue of clubbing legislation which, if changed, would see no need for the organisation of after-parties at all? Places like Berlin and London have strived on having a good clubbing culture with tourists coming from all over the world to experience it. Changing Irish legislation in relation to clubbing could seriously help its economy and its culture. However, this writer sees the chances of this happening as very slim and thus is going to focus his attention on finding worthwhile after-parties which are unlikely to be shut down by the Gardaí. While this may be a grim conclusion to an interesting discussion, it’s an outcome that seems the most realistic. However, readers should not hang their heads in misery, they should go out there and get in touch with the right people and find out where the next best after party is going to be held. If you find the right one, you’ll have a great time and when it ends it’ll be late enough to get public transport home thus saving you money on taxi fare. The night will be longer, more craic will be had and you can go home feeling like your night was well spent. If this doesn’t seem appealing to you, go out there and write a letter or email and complain to the government about just how poor their system is. If you’re in the other category of people who just want to go home at 3am, then I bid you good night.
ANTI-SOCIAL MEDIA by Jack Leahy Who are you? A collection of motley atoms, yes. An intelligently designed human, probably not. An accidental mammal evolved from a kind of ape, almost certainly yes. But what do you like? What do you think, or consume, or covet? And crucially, who cares? The popular prevalence of social media allows for any number of creative answers to these questions according to whatever whims and vicissitudes strike us at a particular moment. As an observation, the novelty of creative self-presentation is long since passed into irrelevance. Nonetheless, the unsavoury beginnings of a phenomenon are visible on Twitter, underlining the fact that social networks are, first and foremost, a new outlet for the old human habit of self-promotion and delusions of authority and relevance. It’s easy to build a following on Twitter if you know what people respond to and content on the micro-blogging site seems conditioned, to a greater or lesser extent, towards the accumulation of an audience and by the number of followers a user commands. Once again, a plain analysis. But, in that form, it doesn’t serve to adequately explain one curious phenomenon: why do people feel the quotidian urge to punctuate their Twitter activity with a greeting for morning and night? I first came across this practice when I began following a technical entrepreneur with a decent following despite little of exception in terms biography. Every morning at about 7:40, as sure as the sun will rise, this gentleman will broadcast a ‘Morning all!’ Chirpy, eh? Wouldn’t it be great to be one of those people whose first thought every morning is that you have a good day? Then it occurred to me - where else would you hear that; that short, snappy, pseudocheery greeting like clockwork and possibly timed to the clock? The workplace. If at the age of 30 you find yourself caught in the daily grind of office work, you can be sure that your boss will poke his head out the door at 9:10am every single day and shout ‘morning all!’ You’ll respond out of obligation of course, further entrenching you in his interpolative discourse. But that’s for another article in a less reputable publication. Not to pre-empt the motivations of someone you may not yet work for, but what does he care of your morning, whether your shave was comfortable and your breakfast filling? Little. Why else would he greet you like that? To let you know he’s there, with authority
over you and your lesser form of work. When you’re referred to in this manner in the collective, one of thousands or one of dozens, you can pretty much disregard the sincerity of any such greeting. Except when it’s from Dermot O’Leary; I get the feeling that he really means it. Social media academics, when they’re not insisting that no, that really is a job, call this habit ‘presence maintenance’, while I have less printable words for it. The soul-destroying ennui and faux cordiality of it all soon becomes overwhelming when you make the obvious link between this individual’s online behaviour and the number of followers he has. If a social media following is proportional to popularity (it isn’t) then that popularity lends itself to authority and leadership, right? If you find yourself answering in the affirmative then cancel your 3G allowance because the internet has beaten you in the game of life. I mean, how many of you would have read on had I started this article with ‘Evening readers!’? Probably even fewer than have made it this far having realised it was yet another attempt at social media critique. In any case, I certainly didn’t sign any contract offering to be treated like some sort of pleb when I followed this guy. In fact I wasn’t even offered one. However conducive this little practice is to misanthropy, it can at least be explained. The guy has clearly put a lot of time into building an audience and, while his methods aren’t for me, fair play to him. But here’s the self-fulfilling prophecy of social media habits; they trickle down from the top, and soon users with 100, 50, 20, six followers are opening their day’s broadcast with a message of apparent good will. As sure as Justin Bieber could get ‘#Sodomy’ trending, so too will people catch on to this habit of the well-known. Now those who were spoken to in the collective because they unwittingly combined en masse to submit to the patronisation of a bloated ego are returning the favour by speaking to their followers like they, too, are operating according to the agenda of a vanity project. All this, without the justification of many, many followers and the likelihood that at least one brainless little fish will bite. Ultimately, Twitter works in such a way that I have almost absolute discretion over what and whose content I read, but it’s becoming more and more difficult to evade practitioners of this grey art without being that awkward, passive-aggressive unfollower. I don’t log in to Twitter to be told what section of the day we’re at and I don’t quite care for being part of someone else’s self-perception. I have my own to cultivate and that’s fairly timeconsuming as it is, thank you very much. Also for the guy with six followers greeting them all with a tweet: just text them, you twat.
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