Going to the Lifeline Bookfest has become a tradition for me since I’ve been in Brisbane. Inevitably, it usually happens when I am at my dryest/poorest moments, after the excesses of December, and waiting for my End-of-January scholarship payment to arrive. But going on the last day is always rewarding. I got the above delicious selection of books for only AUD35/-. Lovely!

I scoured through the “music” section of the Bookfest and finally found exactly what I wanted. A rare music book. And this is quite a find! The notes look easy enough for me to play on classical guitar, and there are some Irish melodies that I recognize. Thrilled!

After allowing myself to dance within the fluidity of water which reflected yesterday’s gloaming, I spent a good thirty minutes or so photographing odds and ends and textures from the garden. I’m particularly fond of this one.

Today was my first semi-official day back at school. I participated in an invigorating group discussion which perked me up considerably. I have started fighting with Chapter Four of my thesis, but had time today to take more texture shots, and shots of another old book. I also managed to roughly “write” or “block out” the beginnings of a new song. All in all a decent day.

The next image is the uncropped version of the same photo, utilizing a different treatment with curves and exposure. I like the scope for dreaming allowed by the texture of the leave-edges and trees against the gloaming sky. It almost looks like a cut-out. I may be using it for a photoshop project.

There are spaces in between the shadows and illumination for more fluid creation.

Ever since I was introduced to Ys in 2006 via Cokemachineglow, I’ve been hooked on Newsom’s imagery-rich lyrics, which are often stories in themselves, a plethora of idioms and narratives which almost feels like walking into an aural representation of New Weird and surreal fiction. EncounteringYs was akin to dreaming in sound within the interstices of a John Crowley novel. Later, as I became enchanted with the Milk-Eyed Mender, it became impossible to separate the storytelling from the richness of her vocal characterizings and modulations. Newsom has a firm grasp on the organic roots of storytelling, and knows how to transmute it into both sound and lyrics, all textures that overlap on her visual story-scopes.

Newsom emerged from her performance hiatus on Saturday at the Tivoli, allowing the audience to preview most of the tracks from Have One On Me, which is due to be released on the 23rd of February. Mention must be given to members of her band, as well as her drummer, Neal Morgan, who was quite stunning in his percussive and drumming work. It was a pity I couldn’t get decent shots of him, but I was trying to minimize the amount of times I took my camera out so as not to disrupt (even if I had both sound and flash off and tested at home to be sure, so no, that wasn’t me, mates), and the lighting as well as my position was not conducive towards snapping the supporting musicians. The horns and strings added warmth and balance to the ongoing dialogue between Newsom’s voice, harp and piano. Ryan Francesconi was in top form also, particularly in the encore offering,Colleen, a song which really brought out the best of the Ys Street Band ensemble in the EP, creating a fantastic dialogue between Francesconi’s tamboura and Newsom’s harp. And who could not love that little yip?

The first time I saw Newsom live was at the Sydney Opera House in 2008 when I used the dregs of that cycle’s scholarship money to fly down; there was no way I was going to miss her playing tunes from Ys, which was so huge in my life journey during that period in time. She performed tracks from Ys and The Milk-Eyed Mender in Sydney, but indicated she was more comfortable in a more intimate setting and with her band. Last Saturday proved this to be right, despite the fact that she did note she was nervous about returning to performing live. Her voice was as beautiful as ever, and showed signs of maturity, with more colour and added range. The songs performed were mostly new, featuring almost all of the projected new album, with one track from Ys (Emily), and a sprinkling of tracks from the Joanna Newsom and the Ys Street Band EP (Colleen) as well as The Milk-Eyed Mender (Bridges and Balloons, Inflammatory Writ, Sadie).

The new songs meld contemporary musical idioms and Newsom’s brand of folk with an indie edge. This continues to be tagged “freak folk” and “weird folk”, with Appalachian vocal stylings, although I have maintained elsewhere that these tags are new labels on what used to be known as “folk” or “psych-folk” in the `60s and `70s. Newsom’s phrasing changed in subtle ways for songs such as In California, which almost felt like she was channeling the young Joni Mitchell of Court and Spark and Blue in some of her stylings, but it was just an added texture within Newsom’s unique vocals, adding depth, mystery and maturity. The title track of her new album, Have One On Me was also brilliant, with elements of jazz. Overall, I would say that the palette of Newsom’s new album differs subtly from her first few albums, the tonal colours here evoke darker shades of blue with black as much as the golden, sepia-tone of some of her songs, and the fresh cream and blue of the others. So says this synaesthete. This may not be helpful to some of you but may make sense to the rest.

The piano gained almost equal time with her harp in this intimate concert, allowing the audience to grasp the maturing of Newsom’s persona and songcraft, which perhaps was apparent from the moment she walked on stage. In many ways, her stage presence was also a harbinger for the evolution of her music, mixing contemporary idioms with her elfin lyricism. The idiomatic charm still marks both her syntactical and aural stylings. I was particularly thrilled with the breath-taking Jack-Rabbits ( It was the first song, and the rest of the titles may be found in this helpful set list, provided by some of the concert-goers), which was far more forthcoming than some of her other songs, although that vulnerable pathos has always existed, suffusing songs such as The Sprout and the Bean and Only Skin. In a sense, the sentiment within Jack-Rabbits reminded me of Monkey and Bear, a Narnia-esque riff which outlined the vocabulary of domination and abuse. Newsom has invoked thematic references to Narnia more than once, as may be evidenced in Bridges and Balloons.

Inflammatory Writ was one of the songs from The Milk-Eyed Mender that took some time to grow on me, but it is a rousing tune, and Newsom did a rollicking version of it on the piano, to cheers from the audience, although perhaps some of that was due to its familiarity! The audience interaction on Saturday was interesting, and there were some really funny moments. She told us more than once that she was nervous, but I thought she handled everything very well, with grace, poise and charm. Also, I’m amused and mildly impressed at how she dealt with the more rowdy members of the audience. There was a funny moment when someone shouted “I Love You Neal!” which reminded me of the aforementioned snarky cokemachineglow review. Neal started and then said “Thank You. Love you back!”

I could not help chortling to myself.

I suppose I should spare some words for Melbourne’s Oliver Mann. I should have taken some pics of him as well, but I spent a great chunk of his performance with my jaw dropped, sometimes with dismay, sometimes with admiration and at other times with downright exasperation. I can’t say for sure why I had such extreme reactions. His brilliant bits were brilliant and sparkled, but some of the songs made me want to shake him, bad. It wasn’t the music, it wasn’t his rich voice that sometimes sounded like he was channeling Glenn Yarborough, and at other times with just a wicked segue into a different vocal style. In the first song he moved from operatic to a sudden Chris Isaak-ish bridge which was both unsettling but kinda cool, if only the beat wasn’t off and the delivery wasn’t so compromised. But still, I felt like all these elements did not work or palimpsest as well as they could have. While his voice had depth and color, it did get rather self-indulgent, something he even apologized for.

I’m looking forward to seeing what he can do in a set where he will be able to shine on his own, and perhaps with a couple of backing musicians. After all, I simply adore Diamonds and Silver, and wonder why that beautiful lyricism did not translate to some of his other songs. I do think he needs to push the limits of his wordcraft the same way he pushes the limits of his voicecraft and work with the guitar. Either that or he was a bit unsettled that night. Laughter from the audience did not help. I think I’d probably go back to see him perform on his own, because there’s something about his music that I can’t shake out of my head, a cross-roads between postmodern self-parody, avant-garde musical installation and narrative balladry with a classical edge. I just wish it was a tighter set, the lyrics were less cliche and, sigh. There’s a skein of genuine beauty and intensity amongst all the other bits, which felt a little too contrived to my cynical ears and which, on first listen could sound rather awful. It was only during the final song that I heard the Oliver Mann I was looking forward to hearing. So, mixed reactions there, which I think is possibly a good thing.

Overall, it was a good night, and like many others, I am eagerly anticipating the release of Joanna Newsom’s new album and am rather impatient to hear the songs again.

This is a highly personal and subjective blog post about a concert which I attended, from the perspective of an sf/f writer and geek girl. Therefore, I will not be using the stylistic methods employed by professional indie/music `zines, and if that is what you’re expecting, you may be sorely disappointed.

There is just something about courtyards as enclosures and thresholds that have always had me dreaming. After a day of running errands in uni and in town, followed by swimming, housework and coding, I still couldn’t resist the urge to play with photoshop. I pulled out this old shot from Glebe Point Street, Sydney, and decided to transform it into a courtyard built for dreaming, like the one featured in Loreena Mckennit’s Courtyard Lullaby. Some part of me still feels it’s cheating though. What I really want to do is paint, and I probably should, before holidays end. Editing these pictures make me think a lot about the sorts of things that create depth in art, music and writing. Shadows, light, distance, perspective, composition. In every form they exist. The names change, the technique changes, but we can create distance with time signatures as much as we can with a ruler or with pixels. And thus, our life, and how we distance ourselves from some things or perspectify others.

I’ve had a magical couple of months just basking in the goodness in my everyday life and part of me is reluctant to have that change, but I also know that for growth, we have to allow resistance and some opposition in. However, you must indulge me a little bit more if I think of the goodness that life brings as well. Good friends, a creative circle, the beauty of light upon water, the distant sounds of birds at sunrise, live music, random smiles, snippets and pockets of magic. The purr of felines who can be both affectionate and rambunctious, the magic and surprise of spices and raw materials that transform into dishes you never knew you could make. Music that is inside you, transmuted into the strange alchemy between voice and stringed instrument.

Some tiny, paranoid part of me feels like these are halcyon days, as I gird myself for some perilous journey this year. It’s the year I am supposed to complete my Ph.d. thesis, amongst other things, and there will doubtless be academic dramas along the way. I feel these precious times in our courtyards of dreaming bolster us for these onslaughts, and give us something to look forward to. I am rested, I am healing. I am almost ready to begin.

So, I made up for not taking pics during most of the gigs I attended. Have so many shots of Kaki King that you’d think I’m a crazed fan. But really, she’s not only extremely talented, she’s also awfully photogenic. I managed to get her autograph on my copy of the Mexican Teenagers EP, along w/ those of the members of her Trio. Yes, I went to all of Kaki’s shows. Which means I’ve heard her play live. Four Times. Within the space of a couple of weeks. Seems a little excessive but her music at least was worth the bother.