One of the great dilemmas of public art is the idea of what art you should put in public.
Unfortunately, a lot of the major debates about art – in the newspapers at least – centres around extravagant, obscure, and expensive art works being placed in public spaces.
I’m a great believer in all types of art being in public spaces, and as much as possible.
And so today, Patrick (visiting from Canberra) and I went for a bit of a walk around the city to look at the City Life Exhibition in Hyde Park and the City Laneways Installation PIeces.
The City Life Exhibition is always a popular one and last year I was lucky enough to go on a walk where the philosophy of the exhibition was explained in a guided tour.
“The photographs need to say ‘Sydney’ without resorting to cliche”, was the summation of the woman who did the tour.
As we walked around the exhibition this afternoon, we both felt that brief was met. I think my favourite piece is called “Applause”, which features a sea of people at a rock concert – presumably – clapping. The photograph was taken from “on high”, and in some ways resembled one of those great Aboriginal “singing” works. Dorothy Napangardi’s work sprang to mind.
We also chatted for a while with Theresa, who was photographed for the exhibition. I’m guessing she’s one of Sydney’s great eccentrics in the genuine, honest sense of the word. There’s nothing contrived about her. She just is who she is, from what I could see. As we chatted – for about ten minutes or so – she told us a little about the photograph, her work as a performer, including singing at The Menzies, and of her concerns for her grand-children.
You could just tell though she was extremely proud to be in the exhibition.
“Would you mind if I took a photograph of you with the photograph”, I asked.
Sensing a group of German backpackers were keen for their photograph, we bid her a farewell and headed off to the Laneways Exhibition.
Theresa and her photograph in City Life.
Inside the Silver Birch Forrest in Laneways
Looking to the Silver Birch Forrest in Laneways
Hanging Birdcages in Laneways
Making people get closer to each other in Laneways.
Human Bar Code in Laneways
Even though I read the explanation, I thought this still made no sense.
Inaction on Climate Change in Laneways
Hairy, human like installation with a corresponding heartbeat in Laneways. Loved it!
Some of the installations were a little obscure even for my tastes. Some of them just didn’t work, in my view. But I loved the hanging birdcages (and the birds sounds), and I loved the silver birch forrest installation.
You walk into a large wooden container with mirrors on the wall and in which there are birch trees in pots. And just for a moment, you have a wonderful sense of serenity in anotherwise noisy city.
On the way home, we caught up briefly with Sam for a beer and a chat at The Green Park.
The grand final was on the screen there, and that’s when I noticed how bad the result was going to be.
Closer to home I peaked in the window of the Carrington Hotel which had been adorned with Parramatta’s colours. Sad faces all around.
Arriving home, I saw a terrific comment on Twitter…. “Oh no, looks like Parra forgot about daylight saving. They’ve started playing an hour late”
Anyhoo, better head out. Meeting some people for dinner at 8.30. And frankly, the sound of doof-doof from Parklife is giving me the trotts.
As always, Valerie Geller was an inspiration at Radio Days Europe. I first became aware of her work. Even though I’ve heard her mantra of “tell the truth, make it matter, and never be boring” many, many times over the last decade, it’s a message which continues to resonate. “No matter what the platform, story-telling matters”, Valerie said today.
Valerie Geller and Valerie Weber at Radio Days Europe 2013
She was on a panel with another Valerie, Valerie Weber from a commercial music radio station based in Bavaria, Germany. She explained how story-telling is important in mostly music radio also, not just talk. “Every song is like a short movie” she said at one point. She illustrated this by saying, her listeners had been moved by the dramatic qualities of a song by Adele which they had simply translated from English into the Bavarian dialect. She also mentioned a great sounding on-air promotion they did where they asked listeners to tell them the story behind a significant bill they had to pay. For the best story, the radio station paid the bill on the listener’s behalf.
As a boy originally from the bush, it was also interesting for me to hear Craig Bruce, Head of Content from Southern Cross Austereo, talk about the importance of developing talent in regional areas, providing them with guidance and coaching which hopefully leads a path to capital city success. He gave the example of Kyle Sandilands who worked in promotions and marketing in a number of markets, always begging to be put on air, and who then, through a series of smaller radio stations was able to be guided and coaxed until eventually achieving the level of success he now enjoys.
Over lunch, I had a brief chat with him and with Sam Cavanagh is Executive Producer of Hamish and Andy, about an issue I mentioned yesterday, the idea of developing “fans” not “listeners”. They both agree once you’ve taken that leap of understanding, you end up with a whole new relationship with your audience.
In the midst of a lot of talk concerning technology in radio (obviously an important issue) it was great to hear people like Valerie, Sam and Craig talk with such passion about the on-air talent and on-air content.
That said, technology is important, and there are lots of new platforms emerging, such as Spotify, Soundcloud and Pandora which might replace some radio stations completely, and challenge many others. The American researcher, Larry Rosin said today radio can choose to ignore Spotify and Pandora, and say “that’s not radio” at its peril. He illustrated by showing how the current market value of Pandora exceeds by many times the value of many important national radio networks in the United States.
There was also a really interesting presentation at the end of the day about how a Germany radio station had developed a smart-TV app. One of the developers of that app noted both the Android and Apple phone app markets are close to maturity, with several hundred thousand apps in each place. By comparison, he noted the opportunities for smart-TV apps is wide open, and radio stations should try to find a home there in the space of a relatively green-field site.
Ben Fawkes from Soundcloud at Radio Days Europe 2013
Also interesting today was Ben Fawkes from Soundcloud, who I’m going to talk with more tomorrow when I visit their Berlin HQ. Stay tuned…
Today’s Tweets
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 11h Every hour starts with a list of disasters. #radio #rde13
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 11h Bavarian radio promo. Tell the story of your bill eg big taxi fair and they pay it for you. Cute. #rde13
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 10h Southern cross austere runs a closed Facebook group to better contact regional and metro staff. #rde13
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 10h How sthn cross austere develops talent and fan base. #rde13 pic.twitter.com/O8pzr2o1I9
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 9h Through Facebook etc remember your audience has an audience. #rde13
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 9h Dublin to host #rde in 2014. Tempting….
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 7h All swedish radio stations allow you to download programming playlists. #rde13
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 7h As always @vgeller inspires at #rde13
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 7h Brand playlists threatens music radio. Eg. Coke radio. #rde
Ross Adams from Spotify at Radio Days Europe 2013
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 7h Larry rosin says radio can ignore spotify and Pandora at its peril. #rde13
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 6h Phone app stores overcrowded. TV apps the next frontier to dominate early. #rde13 pic.twitter.com/zSNIc2k0XI
James O’Brien @JamesOBrienAU 6h .@abcrn gets a mention at #rde13 pic.twitter.com/rD5OSeHMlD
We finished up at about four o’clock, and that was probably just as well, as I beginning to feel a little tired. After two days of talking radio, I think it’s time to go back to my holiday.
Best quote of the day? I started chatting to a radio bloke from a non-English speaking background. Within seconds of striking up the conversation, he stopped me and said, “I’m sorry I can’t understand a word you’re saying. Can you please speak English?”. “Don’t worry about it…”, an English bloke (with a distinct UK accent told me), “…they can’t understand me in America, either.”
Do you know how it is when you wake suddenly in a darkened, unfamiliar room? For about ten or fifteen seconds you have absolutely no idea where you are. “Am I in Rome? Am I in Stockholm? Where am I?”, I thought to myself. And so I stood up and looked out the window, and then it was clear. I was in New York!
“Everyone in New York is always on the run”, a guy called Ying told us last night at a bar not far from where we’re staying. He was a twenty-something fashionably dressed guy who told us he lived in Brooklyn, because “Manhattan is over, and all my friends have moved there”. What he said went through my mind both metaphorically and literally, as I went for an early-morning walk. There were lots and lots of people going for early morning runs, there were lengthy queues waiting for buses, and there was a lot of construction work underway, as I walked “The Highline” from about seven o’clock (when it opens).
View from The Highline, NYC
By about nine-thirty, we were both totally refreshed from a good night’s sleep (and me from my early morning walk), and so we set out for a day of adventure which included picking up a metro card, travelling the subway, and many, many kilometres of walking. Central Park became somewhat of a lunchtime oasis after hours and kilometres of seeing so many people, and hearing so much noise, as we made our way through the streets of Manhattan.
Brooklyn is a similar oasis. As the apartment we’re staying in is near the waterfront, we have rooftop views of Manhattan. By that, I mean it’s both close (for lots of activity) but also far enough way so we don’t end up completely insane. As we walked around, we both agreed this was “our kind of place”. Brooklyn is both “under developed” and “over-developed” according to a couple of friends we have caught up with. “The gays have moved in”, we were told, “and so have some of the yuppies, but they haven’t taken completely over yet”. In the midst of hipster cafes, bars, and some ugly new apartment blocks, there are still lots of blocks which remain derelict.
Swedish Espresso Bar in Brooklyn
Highlights for us so far have included: seeing “real-life” Big Bird in Central Park; having a cocktail at the rooftop bar of the Wythe Hotel (Australian tourists on either side of us); a dinner catch-up with a friend of Michaela’s (who used to live in Sydney) at a nearby restaurant in Brooklyn; and visiting a nearby bar in Brooklyn for drinking, dancing and drag queens with a former colleague of mine from Sydney.
Visit New York and see Big Bird in Central Park. #bucketlist Done!
So yeah, we’ve managed to fit a fair bit into the last twenty four hours. But that’s the way it is in New York: always running :)
After a bit of a sleep in, I hit the op shops in search of some new clothing. In the back of my mind, I’ve been after a new pair of jeans and a new suit. I start acting in a new job on Monday, and I wanted a new suit to go with it, without the associated expense. The very nice suit I ended up with cost just forty dollars, which I thought was a bargain. And I also picked up a matching shirt for just eight dollars. And guess what? Both look quite fashionable, as well as being of quite good quality. Bargain.
Later in the afternoon I attended fortieth birthday drinks for a colleague at The Rose Hotel on Cleveland Street. It’s such a great pub with their wonderful beer garden, and with the two-way mirror in the men’s toilets that allows you the opportunity to keep an eye on activity in the beer garden while you go out your business. Inside, nothing much has changed in the fifteen or so years since I first went to The Rose except, maybe, the candles in the front bar.
A quick bite to eat followed at my favourite vegetarian place in Newtown, ahead of meeting Andrew for a drink and heading off to Glen and Greig’s for their annual party, The New Dulwich Hill Mardi Gras. Glen and Greig haven’t lived in Dulwich Hill for several years, though they’ve kept the name. It was a great night with lots to drink, some yummy food, and a few games of pinball on their “Six Million Dollar Man” pinball machine, though I sucked badly playing it.
And did I mention a couple of late night drinks at The Clarence? No, maybe best not to.
The sign leading to Cartmore Lane is very inviting. In the midst of the corporate green of the City of Sydney street signs, these days, it’s a refreshing reminder of the past. And it’s in stark contrast to the brown and orange painted wall.
I don’t know how many times I’ve walked past Cartmore Lane. Probably hundreds. But as I came home from lunch today, and noticed that all-too-familiar sign, I realised I’d never been down Cartmore Lane before, even though it’s just a few hundred metres from my home.
The street sign gives you an expectation of something wonderful. Maybe just around the corner, as in other parts of Surry Hills, there’s a hidden garden, or wonderful street art?
Unfortunately, there were no hidden gems to be found in Cartmore, nor the adjoining Hastings and Alexandria lanes. Instead, there were lots of parking spaces, signs about parking, garage entrances, and garbage bins.
Do you think it’s wrong to tip a waiter just because they’re cute? I struggled briefly with this moral dilemma today as I had a late lunch. On the one hand, it disadvantages the less attractive waiters, but on the other hand, a cute waiter often adds to the enjoyment of the experience. In the end, I decided I would give him a tip for cuteness, but that wasn’t the only reason I left a tip.
I also felt kinda sorry for him, as he had to deliver the ultimate bad news to a customer who has already waited silently and patiently for an hour (yes, really) for his meal to arrive. “There’s been a mistake. They’ve cooked the wrong meal”, he told me with this really sad, apologetic look on his face. I just knew he was the bunny for some major fuck-up in the kitchen. As it was, it was only the difference between steamed and fried dumplings, so I just smiled and told him it wasn’t a problem. And besides, he was cute.
The view from my lunchtime restaurant in Riga.
“I’ve never been so hungry in my life since arriving in Latvia”, a bloke told me in a bar last night. I knew exactly what he meant, as I’ve felt the same way. I’m guessing by the popularity of the central markets, most people eat at home and there isn’t a significant restaurant or cafe culture here. The food I’ve had has been pretty good, by and large, but there are nowhere near as many places to eat as you would find in a similar-sized town in Western Europe.
And there aren’t that many restaurants, cafes or anything really in the area where I’m staying. There are just lots of shops with absolute crap in them. Like really useless crap. OK, that’s maybe an exaggeration as I’m about 5 doors down from the Benetton store, but I hope you get the meaning.
The bloke I met in the bar was Irish. He’d been here for a few days for a wedding and because his boyfriend (who was Latvian) needed to renew his passport. I went up to him and said hello, “Do you mind if I join you” because he was the only other person in the bar, literally.
I’d searched around on the internet for the names and locations of gay venues in Riga, and could really only find one that was suitable, as the only other venue sounded more like a sex club than somewhere you might go for a drink and conversation. Luckily it wasn’t too far from where I’m staying.
But to get in, you need to press a buzzer. A bloke greeted me at the door and told me it was 2 lats entry (about $5) which I happily gave him. “Turn on the music” he shouted to the bloke behind the bar. And that’s when I realised that, for the second time in the same week, I’ve been the only person in a gay bar.
The barman who was very nice gave me a wry apologetic smile as I sat alone in the corner waiting and hoping that someone else might come in. I smiled back, reminding myself it wasn’t Sydney or San Francisco, it was Latvia on a Tuesday night.
And when you’re sitting there all by yourself, you start to notice things you’ve never noticed before. For example, the decore. The place was fairly well decorated in strong red colours, including red leather lounges and with “Tom Of Finland” images all over the walls. I don’t think I’ve spent as long observing the decore of a bar in my life.
Finally, after about 30 minutes, the doorbell rang again. It was a bloke unwilling to pay the cover charge, so he left. Later, there was a group of about 5 blokes who also wanted to come in, but baulked at the cover charge. If the owners of the bar are reading this, can I suggest dropping the cover charge on a Tuesday night, as I reckon you’ll make more money over the bar if you just let a few people in?
I think it was about 1 or 2 in the morning before the place had a modest crowd of people. And when I say modest, I’d say the bar peaked at about 20 people. I’m sure it’s busier at the weekend.
All of these restaurant and bar experiences remind you it’s not so long since Latvia was part of the Soviet Union, with all that implies. And this leads me into telling you about the amazing experience I had today at the Latvian Occupation Museum.
Communism Museum
The museum covers the period 1940 to 1991 when Latvia was under the control of Russia, then Germany, and then Russia again. A strong theme of the exhibition relates to the agreement between Hitler and Stalin just weeks before the outbreak of the Second World War. Although a student and great lover of history, it’s an agreement I wasn’t that aware of. And although the US and UK said they did not support the Soviet occupation after the war, another theme of the exhibition is the west did nothing about it either.
The museum is very moving. On a couple of occasions, I found myself a little teary and a little overwhelmed by the many terrible things that were done during this period. The exhibition, for example, describes the terrible position of the Prime Minister at the time when Russia moved in. On the one hand, it’s argued by asking Latvians not to resist, he may have saved the lives of many people, but he may also have condemned them to something also quite terrible. It’s explained he went missing within a couple of weeks, died soon after and his grave was never found. Chernenko apparently presented the Independent Latvian Government in 1991 with the last known photograph of that man.
The exhibition also takes you inside the kind of huts people lived in at the Gulags and describes how people were just left to starve to death. Unlike the Nazis who killed people systematically, the Soviet system was to put people in such terrible situations they just died.
Fall of communism.
There’s a ray of optimism though, as the struggle of the resistance movement is well documented. Something I wasn’t aware of was the two-million people who in 1989 protested the Soviet occupation by joining hands, linking Tallin, Riga and Vilnius. And there’s a great photograph in the museum of the celebrations when independence finally came back to Latvia.
It’s one of the best museums I’ve been to, to be honest, and an absolute highlight of my three days in Riga.
After that I went for a bit of a wander and then went on the hunt for some food. Tonight I settled on a very Latvian looking self-serve restaurant chain. Although I don’t recall the name, their signage features a rather jolly looking older woman inviting you in. In some ways, I felt like I was at the Lismore Workers Club bistro. Looking around at what was on offer I tried to find something “very Latvian”. I have no idea if I succeeded or not. It was pretty tasteless actually.
Latvian Food – do I really need to comment?
So tonight is just a night of packing, updating my blog and backing up my photographs. And I have to be up early because tomorrow, it’s Prague (via Brussels). Yes, I’ve got a cheapie flight that involves a two-hour stop-over in the capital of Belgium, which I’m sure will be loads of fun. Apparently, these stop-over hub flights are quite common in Europe. When you consider the geography involved, it sounds totally bizarre, but it’s cheap and better than spending a day on a train in my humble opinion.
Michaela and I went to see a really great show tonight at Belvoir Street called Page 8.
Actually, Michaela had seen the show before, though she noted it was “different tonight”.
“It’s always evolving in some ways”, a friend of the actor who features in the show told us later in the night.
In essence, it’s a one-man show, and a largely auto-biographical piece about David Page, growing up in Brisbane (and nearby Beaudesert) during the 1960s and 1970s.
There’s a lot of humour in this piece based in everyday observations about life in Brisbane during this time, and which I related to.
David talks for example about his mother washing clothes in the copper. Coppers no longer exist, I think, but for many Australians for many years, the copper was how you washed your clothes, with the water heated by a fire underneath. One of my earliest memories is of having a bath in the copper in the backyard.
There are also some gratuitous mentions of Brisbane locations including “Cloudland” with its famous sprung dance floor, Mount Gravatt (which is near to where my sister has lived for almost forty years), and one of the pubs where he performed as a youngster.
The storyline follows the career path of David who began his life on the stage as “Little Davy Page”, a short-lived career which included a single and appearances on televsion including Countdown and “The Paul Hogan Show”.
I had absolutely no memory of David as a “teenage pop star” until some of the footage was shown, and then it all came flooding back.
The show lasts about 1 hr 40 without a break. David sings, tells stories, dances, and even does a bit of drag. Overall, a really entertaining evening.
And especially since we had dinner at Mohr Fish, a great little place on Devonshire Street which has been there for ages, and which still, consistently, delivers a great fish and chips.
Over dinner, we also chatted for a while about my new job which, unofficially I commence tomorrow, looking after the networked content of ABC Local Radio.
This year, it’s been Sydney, then NSW, and now National programs. What’s next? Sweden obviously… :)
OMG, that’s hit and miss. Hey, stop bagging out discussion about art in newspapers — it’s not like I ever bag out the ABC! ;-)
You don’t peak in a window – you peek! That’s a homophone. tee hee.
OMG, that’s hit and miss. Hey, stop bagging out discussion about art in newspapers — it’s not like I ever bag out the ABC! ;-)
You don’t peak in a window – you peek! That’s a homophone. tee hee.
I didn’t mean yours!
I didn’t find the City life photographs as interesting as last year.
Agree with you on that Victor. Still good though.