Tick tock: life's a clock

Look ahead!
A bird is flying graciously above my head and cutting into the thin air right in front of my eyes.
Look further down to its talons!
It is gripping something.
Something - a small, circular object.
It is a gold pocket watch.
My gold pocket watch. My time. 
"Oh! A bird just stole my time away!" I say.

I hope - I really do - that a bird really stole the time. That way, I could chase the bird and get my time back and therefore, relieve myself of the moments I hold preciously. Too metaphoric, I know. But I really wish . . .

It's not for the faint-hearted

I remember my mother said, one could be super genius in school - but as soon as one enters a university his brilliancy dims. I strongly believe that there are a number of your friends who got straight As in nearly all school subjects and won school competitions, but ended up struggling in university. This, I have seen a lot - and this has happened to me, as well.

I was doing pretty well in school. I don't have any intention to brag at all, but this was the fact. My grades were okay and I joined lots of school competitions. But what happened after I enter university was beyond anything I had ever imagined.

I didn't fail my subjects (Thank God), but I was struggling very very hard throughout the year. When I thought about choosing journalism as my major, I was thinking, "Unless I will have to do a live report in a battlefield I won’t have to worry about anything!"

Wrong. 

Place of Assembly photo batch

A facade of Schoolhouse Studios: 97 Nicholson Street, Collingwood

There's no place like school: Say farewell to Schoolhouse Studio

Place of Assembly was officially opened last Wednesday as a final tribute to the 120-year-old building

Schoolhouse Studios is a local hub of arts community which houses 85 artists from varied arts disciplines.

The place has an orchard garden with swings, a chicken coop and a pop-up bar every Friday night. With a plethora of artists, Schoolhouse Studios is like a—well, a school, with such a warm community that involve in a daily interchange of ideas. Needless to say, this is a paradise for artists. Unfortunately, this haven is ephemeral; the end of 2012 is also an end for this vibrant community.

It started well when Alice Glenn and Elizabeth Barnett leased the property at 97 Nicholson Street. The property has stood for more than 120 years as a tannery, monastery, technical college, and Sophia Mundi Steiner School. Since 2011, it has become an artistic community called Schoolhouse Studios, managed by Glenn and Barnett.

The studio extends across several buildings with bleak classrooms that have been transformed by the resident artists into radiant art studios. “We’re blessed with the site definitely,” shares Glenn. “The people have made Schoolhouse Studios what it is.”

Community is seen as a fundamental element which distinguishes Schoolhouse with other art studios. However, they have to keep in mind that this is just temporary as the site is going to be replaced by new townhouses.

And thus, instead of releasing the property reluctantly, Glenn and Barnett threw out a party to bid the studio farewell. The result is Place of Assembly, an exhibition presented through a collaboration between Schoolhouse Studios’ resident artists and 15 guest artists in association with Melbourne Festival. The exhibition opened on Wednesday 10 October and will continue until Saturday 27 October.  

Both Glenn and Barnett embrace it with optimism. “It’s just a great opportunity for artists to come here and work in an environment that is gonna be pulled down,” says Glenn.

This has somewhat inspired the artists; one of the art installations by Zoe Scoglio tries to link geological instruments with the demise of the site, as written on its placard that it is “intended to prepare the Schoolhouse Studios for its imminent passing from structure to rubble.” This installation consists of four rituals which call for the spectators to participate. One of the rituals invites the viewers to “break-off” a chunk of the studio wall and wear it as a pendant, while the other invites viewers to join in a sound parade to “encourage the ghosts to find new homes”.

Other installments combine multiple arts disciplines: architecture, painting, sculpture, performance, video, and more—all assembled in a one of a kind odyssey that unfolds the reminiscence of the buildings. At least that is what Glenn is hoping from the exhibition, “what I hope to achieve was just an exciting sort of adventurous place where people could come … and also been exploring the building and the site itself.”

“Hopefully people would come away with a sense of ‘how beautiful this place is’,” says Glenn.

And yes, indeed. Sara Josephine, a student whom a jewellery maker in her spare time, undoubtedly thinks so. “I think it’s [the exhibition] very unique and odd,” says Josephine who really admires Glenn’s installation: a collage of more than 300 people cut off from the pages of National Geographic. “It’s quite a rare experience to see such a community and I guess it will be better if they keep the building and keep the arts alive.”

Sadly, there is nothing Glenn and Barnett can do to prevent the demolition. They have been looking in a couple of factories and warehouses to relocate the studio. “We’re hoping to find a site that will house everybody, so that everyone can move together,” admits Glenn.

“Mainly, we wanna keep the community together.”

At the end, the most precious thing that needs to be preserved transcends the orchard garden, the chicken coop, the pop-up bar, and the walls of the studio. Schoolhouse Studios wants to preserve its own community.

A is for Alpine

Source: Frankie magazine (issue 44)

A is for Alpine and astounding. We’re not talking about the mountain—Alpine is an electropop sextet Melbourne band with two frontwomen, Phoebe Baker and Lou James, bringing the gentle but cold breezy voices that are emblematic of the band’s trait. Alongside with the singers are Christian O’Brien (guitar), Ryan Lamb (bass), Timothy Royall (keyboards), and Phil Tucker (drums); who work solidly in creating the synth character of Alpine.

The name of the band insinuates something that is related to Europe—or Switzerland. Their bond with the country seems even more prominent; the band was once called “The Swiss” and they even released an EP on 2010 titled Zurich. Although Alpine associates with the infamous frigid snow-coated mountain, Baker admits in an interview, “When I think of Alpine I think of this kind of fresh clean beauty which kind of reminds me of…not fresh like zesty…more like how you feel as if you have just had a nice swim.”

Their debut album, A Is for Alpine that was recently released on August 10, practically proves what the frontwoman says. It is fresh, smooth, clean, and rejuvenating. With a nice casual tempo (like a synchronised swimming), most songs are dominated with crisp guitar riffs. It is quite mild and not as loud as Zurich. However, A Is for Alpine doesn’t stir up sentimentality because the drumbeats are danceable.

Baker and James’ vocals give the band a signature. Despite their passionless vocals, oddly enough these have captivated the listeners; such as Hands with its unique swinging vocals and Lovers 1’s breathy vocals.

Furthermore, there’s nothing quirkier than the lyrics themselves. The typical of Alpine is their reverberant lyrics. There aren’t any clear distinctions between the verses and the refrains. Some songs even have meager sentences that couldn’t be identified as the verse. And they're also ambiguous, like in Gasoline and Hands ("There's gasoline in your eye" // "It's OK to feel the ring on my hands, my love, my enemy"). Almost as ambiguous as the lyrics is Hands’ risqué video clip which shows young women in skimpy outfits kissing their own hands.

The album itself

Nonetheless, it seems Alpine has learned from their previous EP, Heartlove, to repair their dictions in this album; recalling the moment when people argued on YouTube over the real lyrics (fans listened "I love catfood tonight" whereas the real lyric was "prowl like a cat through the night").

These factors (reverb vocals, ambiguousness, articulation) are again that charm people. It's either bland-emotionless or zestful-invigorating, depends on the listeners. At one point, though, the reverb vocals become addictive. Then again, who cares of ambiguousness and articulation if the music beats could lift you from your seats? A Is for Alpine provides the likeness of Zurich for fans; nevertheless it serves an outlandish flavour for Australia. Just as Paul LEster from the Guardian says, "Hands down the best Aussie band we've heard all year."