VINYL — IT’S NOT LAST CALL

Vinyl records sales spin five year increase in US & UK with another record year afoot. 

“The typical answer by someone in my position is that it’s something you can hold on to. It’s the art work. It’s the liner notes. It’s the sound quality,” Louis explained. “With iTunes and so on, people want instant gratification. It’s a lot of disposable music and a lot of stuff based off one single. I think the resurgence of vinyl has helped music in ways where people are looking at it as an overall package and product.”

Americans have been looking at the overall package celebrating the new and classic sourcing high and low from Chicago’s Reckless Records to Cali’s Amoeba Music and NYC’s Permanent Records.

Last year’s vinyl charts were led by Nashville’s own Jack White’s Blunderbuss album followed by The Beatles’ Abbey Road. Approximately 7.5 million vinyl LP and singles were sold in 2012, which was the highest its been since 2001 selling 7.8 million, according to the Recording Industry Association of America.

“As far as titles go, customers will buy brand new vinyl albums like the Arctic Monkeys, and then they’ll buy reissues likeBlur, Radiohead and the Beatles,” said Tony Davis, co-owner and operator of Casbah Records in London.

Tony has been in the music selling business with his brother Graham for over 25 years experiencing the platform shifts and vinyl resurgence. However, “the last two years has been the most noticeable increase,” he said.

This year so far approximately 550,000 vinyl albums have been sold in the UK, which is the highest point it’s been in a decade. The vinyl sold is being led by Daft Punk’s album Random Access Memories, followed by Arctic Monkeys’ AM andDavid Bowie’s The Next Day. A huge boost this year also came from the 6th annual Record Store Day that generated over £2 million in sales.

“Vinyl isn’t in short supply, but record companies are having a hard time keeping up with the demand,” Tony said. He cites the earlier September release of the Arctic Monkeys, which instantly sold out. It then took over a month to restock.

“Those in the music industry are hedging their bets right now with vinyl production asking whether this could just be a flash in the pan,” Tony said.

Despite the resurgence vinyl only makes up a fraction of overall music sales. In the US it contributes to approximately 2 percent and .8 percent in the UK for overall music revenue. But its growing popularity and resiliency cannot be denied.

“If vinyl was going to phase out it would’ve done so in the 90s with CDs and digital coming into the market,” said Budgie who’s been working at his dad’s shop Honest Jon’s in London since he was 13. “There’s still a demand for the physical product and vinyl is the epitome of the physical product in music.”

Independent retailers are constantly questioning the tipping point on physical product sales.

“We’ve thought a couple times about phasing CDs and only selling vinyl. But every time that happens we sell a bunch of CDs that day and we forget about it,” Louis said.

At Casbah Records Tony says the shops sells 3 to 1 in favor of vinyl. “If anything is going to disappear, it’s going to be the CD.”

Budgie reiterates the sentiment, and adds vinyl’s importance in that there is some music that hasn’t made the crossover. “I listen to a lot of gospel music that is on American press, which I can’t get on CD.”

There’s no crystal ball that will predict what 31 years from now will look like. But what is evident is that despite the worst financial crisis across the globe, vinyl lovers did not scale back their purchasing habits of vinyl music, they increased it.

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London’s video rental desert

From VHS/DVD to instant streaming, examining the industrial impact

to London’s traditional based video rental stores. 

Despite being the largest growing sector in video rental, the UK has resisted the adoption of video rental kiosks and remains steadfast on two options – a diminishing traditional avenue and a burgeoning digital alternative.

The challenge in London though is finding that traditional brick and mortar independent store-based rental haven. Contrary to your own disbelief, they do exist and a perfect example on why they do is the feat Paul Smith at Channel Films accomplished earlier this week.

“I’ve been looking for a copy of Nashville for about four years and I’ve finally found it and ordered it,” Smith excitedly told me inside Channel Films at Ladbroke Grove. “[Kiosks] can only give you about 400 titles. So you don’t have great choices. All you can really get is the latest releases.”

Offering obscure titles like Nashville, which isn’t available on such streaming services as LoveFilm or Netflix, is exactly why Channel Films at Ladbroke Grove was able to celebrate it’s 24th year in business in June. 

Paul also highlights another cultural difference to Americans relating to financial security concerns. “People here are very suspicious of something new that you have to put your card into and type a number.”

For some Americans, traveling to that vending machine could be the only choice if they want to see the latest new release. During the golden days of renting in the UK though, you’re only option was to visit your local video store.

Unlike America, the UK rental market experienced an elongated window where new releases could only be seen through rental stores for periods from six months up to one year before they were released to the public for retail purchase.

It wasn’t until the early 2000s the UK experienced same day rental/retail release, which was already long established as the industry norm inside the U.S. Once this became standard, a chain reaction of closures began, said Lloyd Saich who was a sales manager for Warner Home Video for 17 years.

“Rental was the king and then retail came in,” Lloyd remembered. “We were under increasing pressure to hit bigger forecasting figures. Distributors found compressing the window was key because the retail industry was growing exponentially.”

The metaphysical loss though is insurmountable as distributors shifted their priority to retail solely to “maximize their roots to the market,” Lloyd added.

“Before I left I was the only one in the sales unit with any rental insight. We spent our time making personal connections with the rental retailers, meeting their families. It was hands on and personal,” he explained. “Retail was very numbers crunching. You would meet your retailers only when to show them new products and then they’ll leave and place an order. It became just like a machine.”

Closures will eventually plateau with stored-based video rentals becoming a niche market inside big cities, he said, but “there are local people fanatic about their film and those retailers are good a taking care of their people.”

Taking care of his people in Chicago you have Brian Chankin of Odd Obsession. Seattle’s had Scarecrow Video since 1983. And in London’s West End you have men like Paul and Simon.

As I was wrapping up my conversation with Paul, he told me he was uncertain on Channel Films Ladbroke Grove future due to an upcoming lease renewal. Poetically, the song Bitter Sweet Symphony by the English rock band The Verve started playing on the radio. Only time will tell if there’s a sequel to its chapter.

Editors Note:

This story was originally published 4 October 2013. Subsequently, both Channel Films and Video City have closed. 

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  Nomadic living with alia kate 

Written By Kelley Mullarkey

From living in communal homes with families in Senegal to working with Morocco’s female weavers in the sleepiest of towns, Alia Kate is a pioneering force. Travel for her is about gaining new perspectives and learning more about how people live in unity with those around them. Bringing together sustainability and community, her company Kantara imports fair-trade Moroccan rugs directly from women living throughout the Middle and High Atlas mountains in the rustic villages of Morocco.

What’s your earliest memory of traveling?

I don’t often think about my earliest memories of traveling, but when I do, they feel like surreal scenes out of someone else’s movie. One of my first travel experiences was when I was six years old and I went with my mom to the Casamance region in southern Senegal. We were staying in sandy remote villages, living in communal homes with families that my mom knew from her Peace Corps days, eating with our hands, and participating in community events.

I remember that everything was new and foreign, from the way people lived, to how they danced, to what they ate. I remember chickens running around freely in the dusty desert-like yard, only to become dinner a few hours later, I remember multiple wives living under one roof, cora instruments made from gourds that would make melodic tunes after dark, and I remember sitting around in circles, shucking peanuts by the handful with the matriarchs of the village. As I grew older I continued to travel, and it was mostly international, to places that were off the grid and wildly different than my home back in the Midwest.

I grew up in the Midwest as well. My earliest travel memories are of road trips, filling out Rand McNally travel planners in our family’s van. Did you ever go on road trips as a child?

When I was home in the Midwest my favorite road trip destination would be to my cabin in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, right on the edge of Lake Superior. You’ve heard all the Yooper jokes and people do talk a little like they are in the movie Fargo, but it is a breathtakingly beautiful place with a rich history in the copper mining and shipping industries that give the place a simple rugged character that is quite unique to the region.

Later, when I was 10, we lived abroad, in Indonesia and Cameroon and our road trips became a bit more atypical. I was homeschooled and much of my education was drawn from meeting local people and discovering new places. Hitting the road was a frequent and integral part of my education and our road trips varied immensely, one from the other. On one trip we took multiple busses and a boat to get from Yogyakarta, where we were living to Bali, crossing from Buddhist and Muslim lands into the heart of Indonesia’s Hindu culture.  On another, somewhat ill-fated  trip we traveled on dirt roads from Yaounde out to the border of the Central African Republic, only to turn around quite suddenly in the middle of the night for a medical emergency and drive back home.

Needless to say in my formative years I spent a lot of time on the road, transversing paths between the familiar and the unknown. And it has carried over – to this day, I find a lot of excitement in being on the road while exploring new places, and meeting new people. At the same time, I also revel in the comfort and solace of traveling through familiar places and getting the opportunity to see it through new eyes.

From road trips to Senegal, Indonesia and Cameroon you’ve trekked all across the globe. Morocco is such a vibrant country. What originally drew you there? How did you discover your passion for Morocco?

The first time I went to Morocco, it was 2005 and I was living in Barcelona. In the spirit of my more run and gun youthful travel experiences, I did minimal planning for this trip, and had very few expectations; my Morocco plan was to meet up with a friend in Sevilla, take the ferry across to Tangiers, and then….? That’s as far as we had planned, really. At that point in my life, I decided on my destinations by opening a map and blindly placing my finger on it. Travel plans were further hashed out by speaking to people I met along the way and following my own guy instinct.

It was no surprise then that Morocco threw me for a loop- it was a real challenge despite the fact that I already spoke French. You could say that from the minute we got off the ferry in Tangier, we were immediately swept up into a whirlwind of every Moroccan cliché you could imagine. My friend and I got the ‘mint tea’ treatment everywhere we went, we sat through several rug bazaar experiences, we had men offer us camels for our hands in marriage, and we even got taken to the desert by ‘Berber Blue Men’ in a harrowing tale that would make my mother cringe and Paul Bowles smirk in his grave at our naiveté. We came, we saw, but far from conquer, we snuck out, tail between our legs, not quite sure of what had just happened to us.

Which is most likely why I had to go back. I felt like for that first experience in Morocco I was ill prepared – I remember feeling frustrated at my inability to communicate with women and children despite being fluent in one of their national languages. I recalled this strong urge to dig away, below the surface of the shiny touristy veneer and experience the true Moroccan hospitality and authenticity. At the time, it boiled down to a communication problem. I went home and studied a little bit of Arabic and then when the time was right, I got a job, and headed back to Morocco, this time a bit more prepared and a lot more focused on what I wanted to accomplish.

It didn’t take long before I discovered my passion for Morocco. Located at the confluence of the African, Iberian, and Muslim worlds, Morocco is a country of many truths, with an unparalleled richness of history, culture, and religion, and a complexity born from its many languages. A lot has changed between that first trip to Morocco and my current buying trips, but one thing that remains the same is that I continue to travel with an open mind, ready to learn and absorb everything that the country and its people have to teach me.

How did this evolve into your career?

I moved to Rabat in 2006 to work for a management consulting firm. In the first few months that I was in Morocco, I traveled extensively between all of the major cities, and what continued to nag at me was this sense of intrigue for how the folks in the rural areas lived. I would see them sitting next to their mud brick houses, or bouncing away on the backs of donkeys, or washing clothes down by the river, but I had no idea about how they lived, and subsisted, and survived. I wanted to know what happened outside of the flashy tourist destination of Marrakech and the stoic cultural center of Fes, and the bright lights hustle of Casablanca.

Soon enough I had my chance to get that glimpse into the other side. An opportunity presented itself for me to visit a rural village and stay with a friend’s extended family in their mud brick village. Simply put, it was a life changing experience. What struck me most was the prevalence of weaving in the women and children’s daily lives. Every home I visited had a loom in it, most families raised sheep for their wool, and all homes had a floor-to-ceiling stack of blankets and rugs woven by the women that served as their nomadic beds and furniture and warmth in the cold desert nights.

Within a short time of arriving I noticed how prevalent weaving was in the village and how integrated it was within everyone’s chores and daily existence. At a time when I was still trying to communicate with women and children through broken French and Arabic, weaving represented a way for me to communicate with the women and children directly, allowing me access to Morocco’s most rural population. To make a long story short, it was that first trip to the village that sparked my interest and stuck with me as I returned to Rabat and finished my consulting contract. At that point I moved back to the States and deciding to try something new, I founded Kantara.

The name Kantara means “bridge” in Arabic and the ethos of your business is deeply rooted in ethical and fair trade practices. Can you describe the design process between you and the artisans?

Just like I had to learn to speak Arabic in order to be accepted within these rural communities, I quickly learned that if I were to be making orders from the States, I would need to establish a language that I could use to communicate my designs to the artisans.

My challenge was to find a mode of communication that could be translated from my Adobe Suite high-tech designs in Brooklyn to their rural villages in Morocco. I needed something that would do the trick despite the fact that most of the women I work with are illiterate and even fewer have access to internet.

Currently I place my orders using a mix of modern technology and cloud-based infrastructures. With WhatsApp, Skype, and Adobe, I am able to translate complex ideas into a visual storyline that encompasses texture and style and character. I work with the artisans year-round, embracing our iterative design process where we constantly strive to improve our communication and the end product.

What do you find inspiring about the people of the Atlas Mountains and these remote villages?

I am inspired by how they live- it’s so simple and so connected to the land. Moroccans have a wisdom that is deep and transcends much of my liberal arts book learning. They know how to work the land, and how to make their own clothing, and build their own houses. They know how to stay warm when it’s cold outside, and how to irrigate their fields to maximize on small amounts of water during drought years. They know how to make delicious desserts and they welcome strangers into their homes with the utmost hospitality despite their humble means.

They live in highly integrated social networks where the lines between family and friend and coworker is blurred. They know about crops, and animal husbandry, and subsistence farming. They know about natural medicine, and art and design, and child rearing. Their unique blend of Muslim religion and Amazigh tradition permeates everything.

The time I spend with them every year is a gentle reminder to live more simply, to live more fully, and to seek out that connection to the core value and root of what matters most.

What’s the spirit of Moroccan weaving like?

In a country where the majority of rural women are illiterate, weaving has survived without textbooks or trade schools for generations. Older women weavers who train the younger, unwed girls have always passed down the skills orally. This transference of knowledge where the young apprentices learn the skills and take the reins is critical for the strength and survival of weaving as a cultural patrimony in Morocco.

A woman’s journey from apprentice to master weaver very much mirrors her path from unwed girl, to adolescent apprentice, to married weaver. They say the first rug a woman weaves is her dowry rug. As can be expected in a society where a woman’s path to master weaver parallels her growth within the Moroccan family unit, weaving is very much connected to cultural and religious traditions. I’ve read some accounts that liken the loom to a womb and the weaving to a child; this only serves to contextualize the traditions built around the beginning of the weaving process and the end of the process wherein the women cut the woven rug off the loom, effectively giving birth to a finished piece. Not surprisingly, before beginning to weave, the women will say a quick prayer, bismillah, literally, in the name of god, to ensure good fortune and presumedly to protect the progress of the rug while it is still in its fragile gestation period.

In this way, weaving in Morocco is a living thing– it is an ancient art form that is rooted in tradition and tribal boundaries, but not confined by the past. Incredibly, it manages to transcend time, adapting to the modern age and creating new patterns of expression that are now recognized worldwide as part of the Moroccan lexicon of weaving.

You’re constantly going back and forth to Morocco. Do you always have a packed suitcase by your front door?

More than you can guess.

That being said, the more I travel to countries that place such high value and import on tradition, space, and on the concept of the ‘home’, the more I adapt to the same notions and beliefs chez moi.

In spite of my restless feet, my home is my oasis in the middle of the chaos that is New York. I moved to Bushwick many years ago, before it began its march towards gentrification. The Puerto Rican neighborhood that I found myself in immediately felt like home, and over the years my apartment has assumed traces of my style, which is heavily influenced by modern and functional design. 

We all travel for different reasons. Given all your experiences how important is it for you to be nomadic and travel to understand the world better?

I travel more than most people I know and I started when I was relatively young. I was told from early on that if I kept my mouth shut and did not give away my American accent, I would blend in with most people in the countries I visited. This appealed to me as I was a shy traveler, nervous to draw attention to myself. So I did just that– I kept my mouth shut and observed how people interacted with each other, how they set up social hierarchies, and how culture, art, religion, and tradition played a role within their social dynamics.

As I grew older, I became a more seasoned traveler, learning more languages and discovering how to interact with and develop friendships with folks in the countries that I visited. That being said I never lost that subconscious penchant towards observation and analysis that I adopted early on.

While traveling humbles me and allows me to learn through doing and through experiencing the world at a different pace and rhythm, it also allows me to see things in a new way. When I travel I switch very naturally into this intrinsic state of learning- I access a different part of my brain where I am able to relinquish control and switch into the mode of an active learner. I become a sponge, where I drink up information about people and places and things. As a result I come out of these buying trips with new perspectives, having learned more about how people live in unity with those around them in situations that are wildly different than my own. More recently, as our interactions become more connected through internet and modern technology, I am reminded about how our relationship is one small cog in the wheel of a world that is becoming more and more connected as we speak.

Any upcoming travel plans?

I’m off to Costa Rica for a couple weeks at the end of June! Every summer I lead a trip to Costa Rica for American high school students, who are studying business through the lens of coffee and sustainable rural tourism. From afar, it seems like it has nothing to do with rugs and Morocco but up close the connection is quite obvious.

I originally was asked by Global Works to create this Costa Rica business curriculum because of my work with the artisans in Morocco. Now, it’s been three years that I have been working with local coffee farmers, community leaders, and American students to develop and implement small scale development projects within their agrarian mountainside village. At this point, I have led both high school groups and college business students to the community and shwiya b shwiya, poco a poco, it has become home in a similar way to the villages in Morocco.

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  catching the night bus

In conversation with director Simon Baker on his feature film debut
Words Sean Stillmaker

A London night bus is its own sub-culture evoking a meditation on humanity. Watching the rotating cast of characters interact is like an immersive live theater performance, as you journey from end of town to the other in the middle of the night.

From the loud obnoxious drunks, the mysteriously fatigued solo travelers to the couples who are all in various stages of their relationships, no two night bus experiences are ever exactly the same.

There is something deeply intrinsic to London’s night bus culture, and capturing its essence with authenticity and a delicate humanistic touch is first time feature filmmaker Simon Baker and his film Night Bus.

With a deep passion for personal stories and translating them into film, Simon has self-financed his feature debut on a micro budget of £20,000 that was shot in one week. The final cut, however, looks like he had a budget 20 times that with it being executed by a seasoned director with a scrolling filmography over the course of three months.

I sat down with Simon during the London Film Festival to discuss his debut and how he put together Night Bus.

Where did the inspiration for the film originate?

I always loved single location films. I always loved films based on character and dialogue. I think more recently because of the advent of digital technology, certain ideas that you thought were potentially good ideas as a filmmaker suddenly became achievable. My day job as a director is directing commercials and music videos; its good, but I’ve always wanted to make feature films.

I’ve written scripts over the years, come up with ideas, done things and gone a little bit through the mill in trying to get things off the ground. It’s a difficult process and can be quite demoralizing, but I think in the last few years, as I said with the advent of digital technology, if I can think of something so simple, maybe I can make it myself.

The film’s dialogue was entirely improvised, which was created from months of rehearsals with the cast prior to production. Can you elaborate on that decision and process?

Basically, when I literally had the idea, I knew I had potential, but I knew it would take an utterly incredibly talented scriptwriter to write something that was believable throughout all the varieties of voices you have on a London night bus from old to young, ages, sexes and ethnicities.

So kind of inspired by the work of Mike Leigh and even people like Larry David — if you have the idea for a story, maybe just get the actors to tell it like it is and come out with it. The more I thought about it, the more I thought it’s not only a convenient way to make the film but it’s actually probably the most correct way to make it from the point of view of realism and drama.

So when I cast it, I had an idea of what kind of character they could play. In fact it was the actor that inspired the character they would play. And so, I was able to get people together and say, “I like your strength here, I think you two can play together,” and sat them in rehearsal and said, “you’re this kind of person and you’re that kind of person. You’ve been out here doing this…” And then we rehearsed it.

Ultimately all of those things grew — the back stories grew, the little nuances and relationships grew until the point that we got on the bus, we knew everything there was to know about the scene in terms of where it started and what point of conversation they were when they got on the bus and what their underlying issues were — what might trigger that little bit to come out. So the actual physical dialogue of sentences that happened was never in doubt.

It’s improvised but it was a controlled improvisation.

What was one of the best elements to come out of improvising?

There are a few, but one in particular are the Muslim friends that sit in the back.

Initially, I had an idea, which I admit was a cardboard cutout of the character. Obviously in London we’ve had quite a few things happen over the last few years. So I had this idea, which looking back looks very glib, but I had this idea that a Muslim character would be sitting in the back viewing everything and being disgusted by what he saw in front of him. By way the film was structured, you would be led to believe he may do something, but he doesn’t.

I brought in Waleed to play that character because he’s a very good actor. We sat and we talked, and the more we talked about it, the more my idea felt really two-dimensional. And actually the more I spoke to him and listened to his experience and background, I felt it would be much more interesting to have a normal conversation that we talk about things that may be a bit taboo, but we talk about them in such an honest and charming way, that it’s given insight into a world that if you’re not a Muslim, you wouldn’t really understand. The more I thought about it, the more value it would have in a film, especially at a time like this.

So he brought Moshana in and they started talking about things I had no understanding of — talking about Hijabs, marriage, I couldn’t ever write a script like that. I wouldn’t dare write a script like that. I don’t have the background knowledge, but even if I did, I think it would be a bit dodgey. It’s been a great experience making it, and they brought something that I could never have done.

The actual production of the film was practically less than one week. How strenuous was it?

It was five initial nights, and then we did two pick-up nights about two to three months later.

I was prepared for it. One thing that I’ve learned in my day job is that I’m a bit of a boring director in the sense that I meticulously plan out any shoot day because if I don’t do that, I don’t feel confident that I’ll get everything that I need. So that helped me a lot.

We had two hours for each scene and we couldn’t go over two hours and we had so many scenes to do. So five nights, we had to strictly stick to two hours for each scene.

So I went in with a lot of organization and felt relatively good about that. But the thing that was very stressful was that for the very first time as a director, it was entirely my responsibility whether every element of the production worked.

When you’re on a day job as a director, if the actor doesn’t turn up, well, it’s like, take your pay and the actor didn’t show up. But when I’m sitting around waiting for the bus to turn up and it doesn’t turn up, there’s no contingency. That’s two-and-a-half grand down the pan. And it was incredibly stressful from that point of view.

But I was very fortunate to have such a great cast and crew that really bought into the idea and become a great big family and we all kind of went on this journey together. Everybody helped and everybody worked incredibly hard hours — sitting there with microwave mills in the middle of the night and stuff. And we got through it.

The actual bus route in the film is designated as Leytonstone N39. This route actually doesn’t exist in London. Why did you decide to make it fictional?

I made it up, I don’t know why. I just always imagined that it was set in East London. I thought Leytonstone because I used to live there.

I did not want to make it a real bus because people get very precious about it being accurate. So they’ll be saying, “oh N such and such doesn’t go down that route.” I didn’t want to get into those conversations. So I made up a name and a route designation.

While we were filming, the bus was actually driving. It was driving on a stretch between Aldgate East to Stratford —  that long stretch from Whitechapel to Bow Road.

You financed the film yourself for an approximate £20,000. What do you think about the risk you took?

It was scary, but I thought, I’ve been waiting so long for this, that if I don’t do it now, I’ll never do it. And I believed enough in the idea and I believed enough through the rehearsals and the casting process that I knew I had great, great talent in front of the camera. So that if I could capture that and do justice to that in an edit, I feel I really had potential to have something. So that kept me going through that.

I didn’t mortgage my house or anything like that. It’s money that over time I would have done something else with. So it wasn’t sitting there as such, but it was a calculated risk.

Luckily I’ve been around for little while now, fortunately. On the good side I can put in a lot of requests for pretty much nothing. I’ve called in all my favors, my 10 years of favors in one go, really. So in terms of kit and crew, they were very generous toward me to get that next to nothing.

Completing the film, being accepted into the London Film Festival, what’s next for Night Bus?

There a lot of different options potentially. To admit, I have no idea on how these things work. We made a film, we think it’s decent, it got into London Film Festival, we’re going to all these things. We’ve had emails and contacts and people wanting to look at it and that kind of stuff. I don’t know how it works.

But one thing for sure though, if it doesn’t get picked up, I’ll put on YouTube. It’ll get out there; it’s just a matter of a traditional route, a semi-traditional route or a completely non-traditional route.

We don’t have investors waiting to get their money back, so we can do what we want with it.

And how about your next project?

In the spirit of pragmatism, I have a fair amount of ideas. It’s just a matter of how interested people are in the ideas that I have. I’ve been around long enough that I know there are many false doors and moments where you think it could happen and it doesn’t. So, I’m just enjoying the moment in the sun for what it is.

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  cosmic code 

Written By Sean Stillmaker

Photographed By James D. Kelly

Rare sounds and kalediscopic visuals set the atmosphere in the Ace Hotel’s Miranda Bar for the immersive Cosmic Code event produced by Something in the Attic. Cedric Bardawil and Nick Hadfield gave me a little hint of this sensory spectacle they were working on when I last talked with them for the Collaboration Generation story in issue two. The culmination of their superb artistic vision was delivered by DJ/Producer Psychemagik and video artist Ari Russo. 

Nearly three hundred people poured into the space on the brisk London night. They readily settled in as Psychemagik’s casual beach-like sound soothed the ears and Ari’s eclectic visual compilation was projected on the screen dazzling the eyes with the colorful juxtaposition. 

For those not in London to attend, we have an exclusive package highlighting the night, the entire audio mix set and some thoughts from the artists:

What were your guiding inspirations for the sound and vibe for Cosmic Code?

Psychemagik
It’s mostly a collection of all the new records I’ve found around the world, some Private Presses, some Euro Gems, Islands Jams, African stuff, rare Folk 45s and anything I’ve found and loved over recent years. It’s always tempting to only put new discoveries in for the nerds, but so many people that aren’t trainspotters listen to these mixes also. I’ll always want to put tracks that flow nicely in the mix together; even if they’re tracks I’ve had for a while. One of the new records I’d found was from a record about depression taken from a TV series in the 70s. The music is haunting and beautiful at the same time and felt like the perfect choice in that moment.

The visuals you put together were a collection of footage from VHS tapes, laserdiscs, records and cassettes. Where did you source all of this? 

Ari
My video collection comes from a wide variety of sources: video rental store liquidations, thrift shops, stoop sales, the garbage, etc.  One time I pried a tape from the inside of an air conditioner unit that someone was throwing away. For this show, the records/music were handled entirely by Danny from Psychemagik. I’ve acquired a lot of unique videos over the years, anything from private weddings to unclassified NSA training.

What was the creative balance like working together such as dictating pace and playing off the audio then visual and vicer versa?

Psychemagik
I loved meeting and playing with Ari, he’s the real deal. I just played from the heart and he interpreted it live. It was a really special atmosphere and it lent itself to going deeper than usual, which from a DJ perspective is such a dream. It’s my favorite DJ scenario, and I wish I could do more gigs like that. Such a shame so many places abroad don’t really have a scene for a small low key beach vibes playing mellow jams any more. I played at Sunset Ashram with Jon Sa Trinxa a few years back and that was pure bliss; I wish there were more places like that around the world. Doing a beach set at night with Ari would be a trip.

Ari
The music always dictates the pace; I approach it as though I’m a musician sitting in with a band.  The software that I created for these performances is mostly controlled using a music instrument interface. I rely a lot on intuition and chase a kind of moment where the particular images and visual rhythm resonate very deeply with the music.  This is very often achieved by presenting images that contradict the music rather than match up to it.

In your experience do you have a preference playing music at an event purely to enrich people’s ears with music they may never heard of, or do you like getting everyone involved on the dance floor?

Psychemagik
I love to play stuff people haven’t heard before and turn them on to new stuff. The trick is to find those tracks that no one knows but they feel like they’ve heard before. At Cosmic Code I started out super slow and over the 2 hours it naturally picked up. People threw away the tables and started dancing like frenzied dervishes, I loved the spontaneity of that.

What were your thoughts on the initial brief of creating this immersive experience?

Ari
I was immediately excited about the event; I knew Psychemagik would come up with excellent choice of material that would give me a ton of room to play. I’m first and foremost a musician and live visual performance is a new experiment for me.  It’s unusual and exciting to be able to affect the way an audience connects with an entire arrangement of music without making sounds.

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NOMADIC TENDENCIES

Photographed By Kelley Mullarkey

For issue 4 we traveled to Morocco and stayed at Camp Adounia, an eco camp deep in the Sahara, where we spent time with a nomadic Berber family. 

In ‘Nomadic Tendencies’ our editor discusses the conflict between responsible tourism and exploitation when it comes to visiting cultures. As the women weavers there produce sustainable Moroccan rugs we also examine the global market’s demand for these rugs and ethical issues surrounding it.

Here’s an intimate look.

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  RACHEL JONES ON EXPAT LIFE IN GOA  

Written By Kelley Mullarkey

Despite being raised in a small town in Ohio, Rachel Jones has always had a free-spirited and adventurous nature running through her veins. A former nurse who left her state side career to back pack and live abroad, Rachel writes about India’s sliver lining and encourages others to explore the incredible country. We chat with her about the American Dream, Goa’s expat community and everyday life in India.

You’ve been living in Goa, India, for over two years now. How did the decision come about? What was the transition process like both emotionally and physically?

I left my job as a cardiac nurse in Charlotte, NC to backpack India on a whim. I had a crazy time and eventually met a guy when I got to Goa. We only knew each other two weeks before I headed home on an assignment in Seattle, but after three months I was back in Goa living with him.

There were two difficult things: my parents worrying about my future, and me worrying they were right to be worried about my future. After all, I didn’t have a career set up in Goa or any way to make an income.

It’s interesting to think about where we’re from contributes to our travel experiences. You’re originally from the Midwest, which is known for its hospitality and laid back mentality. Has this come into play while traveling?

I think being from the Midwest made me trust people more, which isn’t a bad thing. It’s helped me to meet local people because I’m not afraid to chat with them or just simply smile at them. While in the US if you’re walking down the aisle at the grocery store and catch eye contact with a stranger, you smile, you don’t act strange and look away. But it’s also made me expect too much kindness from people. Americans have this “niceness” about them even if they don’t want to be nice. It’s all about customer service, or even being overly friendly to strangers. While meeting travelers of other nationalities, it was strange to see people be a bit rude to one another and no one seem hurt by it. 

How did your journey with traveling began?

I started traveling when I was 19 and took a summer vacation backpacking Western Europe for a month. It was eye-opening and I was hooked. The next summer, I went back to Europe to explore Eastern Europe. The following winter, I was dying to go to Africa, and found a way to spend a month in Uganda over winter break. I worked as a nurse assistant, in a book shop, nannying, and at a café for a short stint to save money. I would be back to broke after each trip abroad. The year I went to Africa, I graduated with my BSN and moved to North Carolina. I only lasted one year before quitting my job, backpacking India, and eventually moving here. 

There’s been a rise with our generation seeking out traveling over a steady job. Why do you think this is happening and why is it important?

I think a lot of people have seen their parents lose jobs they were loyal to for 20+ years and because of that we think loyalty doesn’t matter as much, and getting a better job or taking time off is more exciting. I think seeing older siblings or family get degrees and still have a hard time finding a job made traveling a better option as well.

The American Dream is harder to achieve and everyone is in debt. Going to college and getting a degree is no longer a guarantee to a high paying job and the $100,000 house, so taking a gap year like many other nationalities do was more appealing. 

Once you take that gap year and see the world it’s hard to go back. Worrying about retirement, a 401k, getting a down-payment on a house in a neighborhood with good schools, where we will be 10 years from now is on the minds of many of my American friends, but not so much on the minds of my European friends who grew up maybe a bit more freely and with less pressure to achieve “The Dream”.

What has life in India taught you?

Patience! India is a hard enough place for locals, so being an expat here takes nerves, smarts, and patience. I’ve learned to read people, to know which people I can trust here.

India is the land of extremes and it opened my eyes that there are two sides to every country. I had to become good at dealing with Indian people in business from my website, to selling candles here, to just getting the refrigerator fixed. They often have very funny cunning plans and I’ve learned to see them. Overall, just living abroad has changed the way I want to live my life.

Something that is hard in India, is sometimes very simple in America. Living here makes me appreciate how smoothly things run back home and how safe I was with police I could trust or taxis with working meters.

Tell me about some of the extraordinary people you’ve met on your travels.

The people I meet in Goa are all so intriguing. In general, many foreign kids grew up here in India while their parent’s bopped around the hippie scene. They speak local dialect and relate with being Indian. Most went to boarding school but then shipped off to England or France for university. They’re all so well-educated and wordly. But if I told American friends back home I wanted to raise kids in Goa I’m sure they would never see a positive outcome from that. 

What is the expat scene like in Goa now?

Many of the Goa kids are now designers, artists, musicians, but none are working 9-to-5’s. They make a living even though they didn’t do their math flashcards after school every day. Even though they aren’t rich, they’re happy. Most of the older expats here have really traveled the world, eaten weird foods, participated in Tribal dancing, partied with Kate Moss, or have other amazing stories to share. It’s such a unique crowd in Goa.

I think Goa is seen as “over” by the world and not many places follow the trance music coming from here anymore. I think younger kids come here to find that old hippie vibe and some leave disappointed. Even the older hippies here have started businesses selling purses or opened restaurants and no one is running around the beaches naked anymore.

Arambol still has the drum circles, and many beaches still have the all night, to the next day, psy parties. Goa has gangs and drug problems like anywhere else, and along with rising prices and taxi scams; I don’t know what the future of Goa will be like.

If you want that Goa trance hippie scene, it’s still here but it’s not easily accessible for the backpackers anymore because the locals and expats don’t want it to be. There are more people moving to Goa for business opportunities than for an acid trip these days.

What single fact do you think people need to be made most aware of when considering how India is portrayed in the media?

That there are two sides. It can be cruel how different the two sides are, with Mercedes dealerships situated on the edge of a slum and it might be hard to accept, but you can’t ignore the beauty of the extremes. It’s one thing that makes India unique.

People come visit me and are shocked to get incredible and cleanly cooked French or Italian food, to see giant mansions, BMW’s, and people dressed in the latest designer clothes. 

India has that 5 star experience across the board if you want it. It has clean beaches, surf, mountains, jungles filled with wildlife, and lots of tiny villages that are completely non-developed. For some reason, people don’t want to think of all that, they just want to think of the slums, which are present in so many other countries, but really amped up in the media toward India. It’s a shame but in a selfish way, it’s what’s made me a career. Sharing the positives of India and how to travel in India easier than you’d expect has made my blog grow as not many people are doing it compared to Europe or SE Asia, especially Americans.

As an American we’re trained from birth about the golden possibilities that our country promises. Has your idea of the American Dream shifted?

I don’t know if I ever quite wanted the American Dream. Growing up I wanted to be a spy, or work for the UN, or do something different and live abroad. But after living abroad, I don’t really get the American Dream. I don’t get working your butt off every day just to buy things and stay broke and work harder just to have kids you pay babysitters to take care of while you work more, retire, and eventually get put in a nursing home and you’re broke again.

Almost everyone I know back home is in debt from school or buying a car and house. I have more money in my account now working online than I did working as a nurse because I spend less even though I make way less. Because I live on a beach away from as many material things, I shop less.

I spend my days at the beach or working from home instead of at a desk. I don’t want to wait until I’m old to retire and travel, and even if my blog goes away one day and I lose it all – at least I had it for a couple years and I surely will never regret all that I’ve done these last couple years living in India.

I don’t want to bash people who are living the American Dream, It’s just not for me. I couldn’t do two weeks vacation because travel is what’s most important to me. If having a pretty house and kids and a good job is what you want and what you’ve got and you’re happy then good, but if you’re waiting, waiting to retire to live, then I don’t think it’s much of a dream. 

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 cultural bonds

 In conversation with the Muslim female artisans bridging the gap between eastern art and western perceptions

Written By Kira Harada-Stone

For Muslim female artists, it’s a constant struggle to create a presence in Western culture; so much effort has to be made to push past barriers and stereotypes in order prove their strength and worth as creative minds.

Variant Space, a London-based cultural pop-up event collective, provides a platform for Muslim women where they can find a voice in the Western art world. Its latest exhibition, Cultural Bonds, is a compilation of work that brings Islamic art and culture to a Western audience by bridging the cultural gap.

I had the opportunity to sit down with several of these artists and speak about their work and beliefs.

Romina Khanom, a British Muslim multimedia artist, uses her rug installations and colorful illustrations to reflect her connection to God and to criticize the media’s portrayal of Muslim females.

Amani Alsaad is a student from Saudi Arabia. Her latest project, Amaniism, chronicles her struggles and eventual use of faith and art to come to terms with her neurological condition.

Qatari filmmaker, Sarah Al-Derham’s latest film, Jumana of the Middle East, works to prove that Middle Eastern women can be strong, intelligent women of power, unlike their media portrayal.

All three artists had a lot to say about their own work and the way it reflects the cultural issues they find most important.

What is your work in Cultural Bonds?

Romina
It’s a series of illustrations and a rug piece. I was just playing around one day and I decided to make a series of rugs that were cut into with geometric shapes. The shapes play a big part in it because geometry is a global language; you just understand it. As a British Muslim, I try to represent my work in a way that everyone can relate to. I used copies of Persian rugs so that I could unite the Middle Eastern idea with a global one. The most important thing to me was to have the rugs layered. The layers represent the infinite nature of heaven. Ultimately, the work is a spiritual piece. It’s my connection with God.

The illustrations are called Women of Color. I took images of women in Afghanistan and added color to them. I’m not trying to say that they’re colorless, but it’s a play on how the media portrays women in Afghanistan. I wanted to show how high of a status women have in Islam. It’s said that the key to heaven is beneath a mother’s foot and women are wrapped in these veils to protect them. There’s a completely different and happier side to what we see in the media.

Amani
It’s a project called Amaniism, but it started out as Taking Care of the Roses. It all started in a personal way. I was viewing MRI scans of my own brain. I was feeling very frustrated because I had begun losing control of my hands, which really freaked me out as an artist. Each one of my doctors had said different things, since it’s very difficult to read brain scans. I started playing around with the scans on Photoshop. After illustrating on them, they just looked better and I began to feel more optimistic. 

Sarah
It’s an experimental piece filmed between Doha and Paris. It’s called Jumana of the Middle East. Jumana represents all women in the Middle East. She embodies many positive images and qualities such as, independence, intelligence and the ability to take control of her own life. Women are not as oppressed as the Western media shows them to be. Women are educated, they lead and they advocate for modernity. 

How is your personal background reflected in your art?

Romina
I come from a big family with lots of siblings; there are six of us total. The rest of them are very academic and I happen to be the artist. Because I’m the youngest my dad let me get away with it. He says ‘let her do her degree in coloring, it’s fine.’ Whilst at [university] I was the only Muslim in my course. People kept asking me a lot of ignorant questions about Islam. It made me want to teach myself and the people around me. I had never worn a hijab until four years ago and I never wanted to because of all of the questions. I started researching it and decided to try it, and it just felt right. My work changed dramatically on a spiritual level. 

Sarah
I started with photography when I was 12 or 13; my family was very supportive. I come from a very tribal background; it’s very closed and religious in terms of Islam. Getting into media and filming was kind of frowned upon within my family. I was brought up around people who said ‘you can’t do this’ and they would try to limit me, but my dad was the person who was encouraging me and pushing me towards what I wanted to do. I felt like I had a responsibility to change their ideals. Now the whole family is very accepting of what I do and they’re very happy that I’m here studying. 

What inspires your work?

Amani
I usually do something that talks about a social issue or problem. For example, I have another project called Look Right Through Me, which is all about women and identity. I’ve been lost sometimes. I’m originally from Saudi Arabia, but I’ve been living here for so long. It’s not that I’ve necessarily been confused [about my identity], but sometimes other people get confused about me. They ask me where I feel myself more. I don’t feel more connected to one over the other. I am still culturally attached, but not necessarily to every single aspect; I have a combination.

Sarah
It depends what’s going on socially; I’m not very political, but if something causes a buzz, I get interested in that and I see where that takes me. It’s personal as well. All of my pieces have some kind of personal aspect to them. Jumana of the Middle East is very personal. She’s not only a representation of women in the Middle East, but also a representation of myself and how I would like to see myself. The person in the film is actually me. 

How does your work bridge a cultural gap?

Romina
There’s a huge division between the Muslim culture and art culture. There is a barrier. No one’s put up the barrier for them, they’ve created it themselves. I believe that the art world is a white middle class environment.  Historically, there was such a struggle for the minority to find a place in the art world. Now that the doors have opened up for us, people are a bit more hesitant to make that step and go forward to explore the art world. As a British Muslim who wants to be a successful artist and who wants to represent Islam in the light that it should be represented in, I want to be seen as a kind of ambassador. It’s all about breaking those barriers.

Amani
I’ve been testing reactions of both audiences. I get totally different reactions from different points of view. Some European people have thought that my work is saying that women don’t have any freedom in the Arab world, when I’m really trying to say the opposite

Sarah
I don’t really feel like there is a huge cultural gap, Qatar is very multicultural. What I’m trying to do is change how our culture and traditions are perceived. I’m trying to ask questions and expose certain issues. When people watch my stuff, I want it to be culturally specific, but at the same time universal. It’s culturally specific, but it resonates with an international audience. 

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 in conversation with harper poe of proud Mary 

Written By Kelley Mullarkey

After a stunt in 2008 volunteering for Habitat for Humanity in South America, US-based designer Harper Poe launched Proud Mary, an international textile company. Since its inception she has contuined to vagabond around the globe to remote far flung places such as Morocco and Peru crafting covetable collection after collection of textiles made with love.

Working with global artisans in developing nations Harper unites fair trade ethical practices with modern design. From gorgeous handmade brocaded tote bags crafted in Guatemala to striking indigo shibori dyed kaftans handwoven and sewn in Mali, West Africa, each induce serious wanderlust. Armed with her free spirited nature and her eye for detail, Harper is continutely inspiring. 

Having just returned home to Charleston, South Carolina, from her most recent design trip to Lesotho, a small country adjacent to South Africa, we caught up with Harper to discuss all things travel + design.

You recently returned from Lesotho for your upcoming collection.  Tell me about that trip — any moments that really spoke to you on that trip?

Lesotho was physically one of the more beautiful places I’ve ever been.  I was there in their summer so everything was so great and the mountains were pouring over with waterfalls and sheep grazing as far as you could see.  The World Bank is currently doing a project in Lesotho to boost up their handcrafts sector by bringing in buyers and designers so it was a really exciting opportunity and fun to be on a development project like this from the beginning. None of the artisans in Lesotho have exported so as there is a long road ahead, both myself and the artisans see a lot of potential and are excited to start importing their goods to the U.S. and other developed countries.

The most interesting moment of this trip was on a Sunday (our one day off). We took a drive up into the mountains to see the countryside and one of the giant dams. On our way back to town we saw a group of people on a hillside near a tiny village huddled together.  Curious, we pulled into the small village and stumbled into a circumcision ceremony. The boys had all been herder boys and just come down from the mountains for their rite of passage ceremony.  At first we were not very welcome, but our driver convinced the villagers that we were okay, we paid them $20 and they let us sit through their ceremony, take photos, listen to their songs and chanting.  I felt completely honored to be able to take in something like this. We were there for a few hours and at the end were chatting with a woman who acted like town mayor about sourcing blankets from some of their herder boys (they embroider the most beautiful wool blankets). 

What are some of the aspects you look for when deciding on a new geographical location to work on a project with?

They have to have a tradition of textile production because Proud Mary is based on the exploration of global textiles.  It’s also beneficial to find producing groups that have had some sort of artisan capacity building/training so that they are familiar with the process of exporting and producing bulk orders.  It’s also a selfish thing — I try and work in locations that I am interested in personally. 

What are you most inspired by while on these design trips?

The people. I LOVE connecting with people in different cultures. I grew up in a fairly homogenous city and that always felt wrong to me.  Being surrounded by different language, dress, landscape, weather, and religion feels right. The world is this way and I love plugging into something so different, I feel the most normal in these environments.

Introducing artisan crafts to the global marketplace creates more jobs and awareness, which also leads to the risk for exploitation within the supply chain. What are your thoughts on this?

I’ve seen this with companies copying traditional textiles instead of ordering from the source.  This seems to be happening less and less though, which is great.  I think as artisans are growing their businesses, they are becoming less susceptible to exploitation because they know their value.

How have you seen the industry evolve since you launched Proud Mary?

It’s evolved tremendously since I started in so many ways. Design has become a strong component of artisan made products as opposed to the “crunchy” fair trade look that was around for decades.  Large retailers are jumping on board too, as consumers almost expect handmade, global made in a retailer’s product arsenal. This is great in that more buying power is going to support global handcraft but we must be sure that we don’t just use the buzz words and that we educate consumers on the products we are selling to them and are transparent and honest about our process.

You’ve worked for Habitat for Humanity in South America and as a nanny in France. When did travel weave itself into your life

When I studied abroad in Spain in college.

You normally travel solo. What has that been?

I do, but I usually have contacts in country that I’m working with, so I’m never totally alone although not knowing the language in most places I can feel fairly alone.  I love that experience though, being able to make it around a foreign place not knowing the language. It’s extremely gratifying.  Traveling alone you are also forced to meet people. I’ve had some of the most beautiful evenings and conversations with strangers on my trips.  I feel like I’m the most open and honest version of myself while traveling (I think most people are) so you can dive into realness very quickly.

What’s next up on your must-go to list?

India and/or South East Asia.  South East Asia more for adventure and exploration and to experience Buddhist culture. India for the textiles and chaos.

You’re constantly wandering through markets while on your travels. What are some of the special pieces you’ve brought home with you?

I always bring back little animals, stuffed or wooden. On my trip to Lesotho I bought a beautiful blanket off of a herder boys back…that’s a prize! 

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 behind hollywood’s heroes

The background artists’ motivations performing along Hollywood Boulevard 

and the graft issues of the unregulated industry

He starts his day around 9am with a trip to the gym practicing his game for a few hours. Then he heads to the boulevard around 2-3pm with a boombox, basketballs and a tip jar. If he can’t get a good spot, he waits around until another performer moves and one opens up.

More than anything Devon tries to engage with the tourists by passing the ball to them or faking them out with a pass. Interaction, beyond looking the part, is the most crucial element, he says.

If they tip, they get a photo with Devon or possibly a “magic spin” — a spin of the ball on their finger. Averaging $100-200 a shift, Devon says, “I always do well, whatever they give me, they give me. If they don’t, it doesn’t make me mad, it just makes me practice harder.”

However, that delight on the boulevard is not always pervasive among the characters. For others money is, indeed, the motivation and the reason for their special form of burlesque. Competition is tough and crossfire can occur.

Last fall, CBS News Los Angeles reported a brawl involving a Mr. Incredible and a Bat Girl. Seemingly a Chewbaca attempted to break up the fight and a Freddy Krueger, shockingly out of character, stepped in to help resolve the struggle as well. Months previously there was another report of two Captain Americas and a Spiderman in fisticuffs on the boulevard.

These disputes most likely occurred from characters being territorial over their spot. But other disputes occur over the amount of tips a character receives or if they’re working in a group, according to the sources interviewed.

It’s this sort of behavior that has received blowback from the city government, crackdown from the police and prompting possible regulation within the industry.

The bill proposes registration for a license to perform in Times Square and that the performers be fingerprinted as well. Their objections ranged from infringing First Amendment rights to the fear of deportation from the US. There has yet to be a decision reached on the bill in New York, so the Hello Kitty’s of Times Square are still able to charge for their hello’s.

In LA, Javi continues to beam with his Mickey Mouse smile and Devon works his basketball moves waiting until he makes it big, both plying this particular trade with their ethics. And if by any chance he’s interested, there is actually a spot in front of Beso restaurant with his name that Alec Baldwin could come out of his so-called retirement and make a living, just by people asking for his picture.

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