I was at Alison Goldfrapp’s show at The Tivoli tonight, but decided not to bring a camera. Earlier today, I was puttering around the garden with my Olympus, capturing moments in sunlight, thinking of my old chiaroscuro poem, and I knew that I did not want to photograph the gig. It was a lovely gig, and she played my favourite songs from Felt Mountain and Black Cherry. I had good company, one of my music/gig buddies who is one of the good folks (aka, an sff geek). However, the impetus for gig photography was no longer there.

Perhaps it was because I knew I did not want to be too close to the stage. Or perhaps it’s merely this:

I want to dream with my camera again. I want to move from the ontic quality of performance to the inarticulate possibility found within nature and inanimate objects.

Here’s a picture I decided to go crazy with. So I messed with different levels of color and saturation, and added some more of my crazy handwriting. Mostly, I wanted to capture the feeling of the ocean in another world, or another planet. There’s a beach in Malaysia with red sands, and I visited it once when the haze was thick in the sky, and the sea was almost green. That inspired a scifi short story I began but never finished. I should get around to finishing a draft at some point. Also, now that I am no longer a pauper, I should go to the beach! Soon!

Speaking of scifi, I finally got around to finishing Clockwork Phoenix, and was enchanted by the last three stories. I read it while waiting for Goldfrapp’s warm-up act, and finished it with a satisfied sigh. There were so many lovely tales in the collection but hands-down, my favourites were The Moon-Keeper’s Friend by Joanna Galbraith and Root and Vein by Erin Hoffman. I’m looking forward to reading Clockwork Phoenix 2 and Clockwork Phoenix 3. When I have the time.

This month is going to be all Nnedi Okorafor, all the way, since I have a conference paper to write.

P.S.: Hmm, looks like three years ago, in July, I had a lot to say about the craft of writing. Does me good to read these entries again.

My favourite room in this flat right now, is not this study. Nope. It’s my almost-technology-free bedroom. Of course, I have a netbook there, one that doesn’t have a working keyboard, and I do read ebooks on my dopod, but apart from that, my bedroom is for rest, quiet reading and contemplation/meditation. This has actually made me far more productive. Anyway, it’s been awhile since I’ve done a traditional “books read” post, without any pictures, so here goes.

(1) I am still slowly reading The Essential Bordertown. For awhile there, it was my “gig book” and it’s been all the way to Woodford and has kept me company at various gig locations (Brisbane Powerhouse, The Tiv, The Zoo) as well as at the Botanical Gardens for Sunset Sounds. The problem with this is of course how distracted one is, pre-gig, even if the stories were enjoyable. Right now, I’m slowly (re)reading a story per night.
(2) Finally finished The Gathering Storm after months. Verdict? I liked it. Brandon Sanderson seems to be channeling `90s Robert Jordan and the story moved fast enough for me, as opposed to some of the plodding installments of The Wheel of Time.
(3) Anne Carson’s Eros the Bittersweet is a delight, and gave me a lot of food for thought. I read it twice, drinking in the thoughts and interpretations deliriously.
(4) Sherri S Tepper’s Sideshow is still on my current reading list. I amused myself by making it my “gig book” for Amanda Palmer’s gig at The Zoo. Fans of Miz Palmer who have read the book should know instantly why.
(5) Most of my readings are academic, though. This is not a punishment, but a pleasure, because I am drinking in tons of literary criticism to do with Gothic Fiction and the postcolonial gothic as well as African Studies texts. Beautiful days. I am still in love with my thesis even if intense work on it has made me physically fragile.
(6) I’ve also been reading British Postwar Drama/Plays for a postgraduate course, and have been enjoying the experience, although some of the plays were deeply disturbing. I’ll be writing a paper on Pinter, later this semester.

I am a bit frustrated at the lack of time to concentrate on my own writing but I trust/hope that all things come in their own season and time. I’m anxious to complete one novel, get at least three short stories accepted, so I can find an agent. But all things come in their own season and time, and I have a thesis to write. A thesis I am in love with. I am aware this is a privilege, and I’m grateful for it.

Zee Avi, perhaps pulling off the YouTube coup many young indie singer-songwriters dreamed of, emerged in Brisbane this Sunday as part of The Happening, an event celebrating surf culture in art, film and music. I won a double-pass to this event via The Zoo’s weekly giveaways and managed to drag along one of my internetweb-buddies-who-made-theRL-transition, the multi-talented and ever-gentlemanly Scarlatti. It was a pretty good event, all in all. We were impressed by the art, and the music was also a good mixture of mostly acoustic stuff by up-and-coming folk and indie acts such as UK’s Neil Halstead, Malaysia’s Zee Avi, the American Matt Costa and Australia’s Will Conner. All four acts were a pleasure to listen to, but Zee Avi was the main reason why I wanted to go to The Happening, and apparently I wasn’t the only Malaysian with the same idea. I dubbed Sunday night “The Night the Malaysians Invaded The Zoo”; it was really surreal but also really fun to watch excited (and very young) Malaysian students meandering through the art exhibits, chatting each other up, hugging and laughing, as well as giving their indie songstress love and support. It was a good feeling and a good night, and I’m very happy to be able to feature Zee Avi on my blog. An Indie MALAYSIAN act, for once at The Zoo! Now, if only more of our homegrown talent would hit the indie clubs of other countries.

Ironically enough, the first time I heard of Zee, last year, was via WFUV.fm’s City Folk broadcast, as they talked about how her success was an internet phenomenon. But I would also chalk it down to songwriting talent, a voice that seems to be a blend of the classical jazzy stylings of artists as diverse as Billie Holiday to the most recent Madeleine Peyroux, to containing the hint of the rich, Malay vocal stylings which I associate with the smouldering songstresses of the 50s and 60s black-and-white Malay movies. The result are songs that are both simple yet melodic, with catchy, hummable ditties. More cynical people may perhaps not be so wild about the sweetness, but I enjoyed it because it wasn’t just sweet, the lyrics are a mixture of everyday colloquialisms as well as just a small bit of edge. This was echoed by her on-stage persona, a blend of sweet with a hint of scrappy, particularly when she was berating the noisy people at the back.

This may answer questions about why Zee Avi is succeeding where others fell short, and the secret of her appeal. She’s not just a dimunitive and demure songstress who writes sweet, jazzy acoustic tunes. This is a performer who knows how to work the audience; she kicks ass on stage with either an acoustic guitar and an ukulele, and her songs are a combination of street-savvy and irony, as is evidenced by the famous Malaysian-English/Malay tune “Kantoi”. I’m looking forward to seeing where her songwriting adventures take her, since this is only the beginning.

One of the reasons I kept snapping was because Imogen used so many different instruments with poise and ease. I suspect it was the same for many, though I/we really really wished people would stop using the bloody flash. Not only was it distracting, it also ruined other people’s photo-opportunities. I can’t count how many times I thought I’d framed a good shot, only to have someone’s blinding flash ruin it for me. Gragh. However, who could resist the many delightful opportunities for music-photography-wankery?

Being of a somewhat prufrockian and timorous nature most of the time, I admire the poise of artists like Imogen Heap who are both generous with the audience and able to carry difficult moments with grace. It was definitely a night full of banter, improvision and anecdotes behind some of the songs, all the kinds of stuff that makes for the best intimate gigs.

Imogen owned the stage and her band helped her perform auditory feats with the loop-machines. However, my favourite moment was loop-free, when she used the audience as an instant choir in Just for Now, creating a beautiful effect to arguably one of the most beautiful songs she’s ever written. And hey, now those of us in the audience can say we sang with Imogen Heap! How cool is that, huh?

Dazzled by Massive Attack, I’d nearly forgotten about this concert and the fact that I’d decided to give it a miss thanks to dwindling finances. But a friend reminded me and had a ticket to sell, and a good thing he did, too! Because I would have kicked myself several times over if I’d missed Imogen Heap. I’ve been a fan since the Frou Frou days; the first time I heard Breathe In, I thought it was so relevant for a great many reasons. And Let Go pretty much reminded me of a time of great transition, after I completed my M.A. in Literature, started teaching and wanted to move out and start a life on my own. Her I Megaphone and Speak for Yourself albums were also soundtracks for my teaching days, when I straddled the divide between my wild artist self and the role-model I had to be for my students. I still straddle this divide, and it feels peculiarly apt that I got to listen to her live at a time when I am missing being an educator, missing the feeling of teaching a new generation how to love literature and how to think for themselves. But that’s enough about me.

When we arrived inside The Hi-Fi, with the plan to “close ranks” and “position ourselves strategically”, Imogen was already on stage, in her pre-stage costume/makeup self, introducing her warm-up acts. It was such a pleasant surprise and kind of indicated to me that this was going to be a far more intimate set than I expected. And she didn’t disappoint us. Imogen ruled the stage with her personality, with her very good back-up band made up of the warm-up guys and her drummer who also thrilled us with throat-singing. Her loop-machines were present, but she also utilised everything from two goblets filled with water, to creatively crafted instruments to a toy bird! I think my favourite has to be the recording of a special log burned for a family gathering, though. The effect was eerie and haunting, and went so well with her almost crystalline vocals.

Most of the songs were from Ellipse, which I have yet to listen to, but I can’t think of a better, more magical way to be introduced to these songs, because it made me want to listen to them again. Imogen’s voice was breathy and almost supernatural in its clarity, and her confidence with using different sounds and modes of performing impressed me.

Amongst the non-Ellipse songs she played were Let Go (a Frou Frou song), Headlock, Just for Now, Come Here, Boy, Hide and Seek, The Walk and The Moment I Said It, as her final encore song.

I was thrilled with all versions of these favourites, but especially so for Come Here, Boy, which was a compensation song for the people in the gallery who were having sound problems. I can honestly say it resulted in my first loud concert “WOO”, if we don’t count the muted yips and squeals that punctuated my Massive Attack experience. Oh dear.

I took tons of pictures thanks to our excellent position, so there’ll be a second blog post with a second set of pictures.