Melbourne

Angie McMahon – Just Like North

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I was lucky enough to be at one of Angie’s shows at The Forum at the end of May when she surprised us with this beautiful new song.  She explained that it was recorded at the time of making her latest album Light, Dark, Light Again but didn’t make sense anywhere in the sequencing of the tracks.

I’m not sure I agree, but I’m kind of glad that such a special song was released into its own spotlight this week.  Perhaps it was always supposed to serve as a reassuring overview of the personal journey she describes on her album.

pain will be on every map, just like north is
pain will be in every year, just like August

failure is on every map, just like north is
failure is in every year, just like August

Life (for me) ended up being all A Bit Much at the time of the Forum show, so I didn’t end up finding the spoons to do anything with the photos and videos that I took that night.  Seeing more live music this year has been one of the greatest joys, and I remember feeling especially present for this show and managing to pause all of the white noise in my life for a few hours.

It’s a particular gift of hers, the way that she captures the attention of the crowd between songs with her gentle and fragile storytelling, and then sweeps us off our feet with ferocious strength when she sings.

When Angie talked about how different she was the last time she played this venue (anxious, scared, “didn’t know how to hold a crowd”, as she put it), I was catapulted back to that night in 2018 and reminded that my life was different then, too.  It was a highly anticipated show for me, and it was almost ruined by the person I chose to see it with.

What an absolute joy and healing experience to see Angie again a few years later, in one of our favourite venues, both of us a little older and wiser and in love with the right people.

Failure is on every map, just like north is
Failure is in every year, just like August
You had to be ugly before you were gorgeous
Balancing tiger with rhythm of tortoise
Here in your (Chest) chest, (Chest) chest, chest

You’re not gonna blow it ’cause slowness is calling
You don’t have to know where your feet will be falling
If you get everything right, then there’s nothing else left, left
If you get everything right, then there’s nothing else left, left

Here’s some little memories from that night in May, when this song first landed on my ears.




Sarah McLeod, George Lane – 29 June, 2024 (101 Things: #071)

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Thing #71 on my list of 101 Things in 1001 Days: See live music in 20 different venues (3/20)

Sarah McLeod
George Lane, St Kilda
29 June

This show by Sarah McLeod was one of the most delightfully chaotic gigs of my entire life.

We arrived about an hour before the show, hoping to grab a coveted table near the stage.  We hadn’t counted on the rain, or the cold, or the fact that the venue would be about 20 minutes late opening its doors to punters.  We were freezing and drenched, but each time a staff member came out with a “5 more minutes!” update I told myself it would be worth it.

I was right.

The cold was forgotten once we were inside and warm, and we managed to grab a table where we could settle in for the night.  We ordered food and beers, and before long Sarah walked onto the tiny stage at the front of the room.

“Funny story”, Sarah tells us, and explains that the cover band had fallen through at the last minute.  The delay in bringing everyone inside had been because she was quickly writing another set of songs, which unexpectedly meant playing the haunted underwater piano at the back of the room, behind the audience.

It was at around this point that I got really excited, because I could see that this was somebody who was willing to make magic out of a shitty situation and not be precious about any of it.  The piano was an absolute piece of shit, but every single person in the room was dying to see how this unfolded and so the energy was electric.

And off she went.

There was an alarming amount of unsolicited audience participation, a dramatic love story in the crowd (followed by breakup), and a punter who invited himself up on stage to sing a duet.  Another artist might have cracked it over the multiple technical glitches, the snarky AV technician and eye-watering overfamiliarity of the audience, but instead Sarah seemed to run towards danger and embrace it all.  The end result was one of the most joyful, improvised and intimate shows I’ll ever experience.

An incredible night, all set to Sarah McLeod’s phenomenal voice and songwriting. There will never be another gig like this one and we will never ever forget it, or just how generous and talented she is as a performer.  I left one of her biggest fans and can’t wait to see her again.

Dale Cox, Take Me With You – Australian Galleries (101 Things: #091)

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Thing #91 on my list of 101 Things in 1001 Days: Visit 10 different galleries.

Dale Cox | Take Me With You
Australian Galleries, Collingwood
2 July – 20 July 2024

Artist’s statement:

In Take me with you the notion of convenience and the quick fix, so embedded in modern life, is dissected and re-presented as a conversation with nature.

The modern condition has resulted in a profound separation of mankind from the natural world. Likewise, there can be a tendency to insulate our personal selves from our own natural state. Increasing diagnoses of mental and physical malaise are met by an eager pharmaceutical industry offering chemical interventions.

 

Another defining feature of our modern world is an emphasis on convenience, quick fixes and ‘bite sized’ chunks of experience and consumption. These new works offer a playful nexus between our commoditised consumer society and the natural world. I offer easily swallowed doses of nature to which our biophilic* needs remain.

*Biophilic; a love of living things and nature, which some people believe humans are born with, the inborn affinity human beings have for other forms of life.

 

Ubiquitous consumables such as aluminium soft drink cans are ideal vehicles for consumption on the go. Even a fire extinguisher might be seen as an urgent delivery system for nature. In other works, gas bottles are used to package or commodify the essence of a place and provide another useful container to remind that much like the drugs and processed foods we consume, the awe-inspiring wild places we might visit are absorbed and contained within us, and can sustain and enrich our lives in ways a pill or sugar never could.

 

As part of a living ecological system from which we often presume ourselves exempt, it’s becoming increasingly apparent we have paid a huge price for this exceptionalism. Perhaps instead of drugs and sugar hits we need most urgently to reconnect with our natural world, as an antidote or panacea against the stress and alienation of our fraught modern existence.

Glenn Morgan, Home and Away – Australian Galleries (101 Things: #091)

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Thing #91 on my list of 101 Things in 1001 Days: Visit 10 different galleries.

Glenn Morgan | Home and Away
Australian Galleries, Collingwood
2 July – 20 July 2024

Sunday before last I took myself for a spontaneous solo art expedition and found myself at Australian Galleries in Collingwood.  I had done no research and arrived with no expectations, so it was an absolute delight to stumble upon an exhibition of works by Warrnambool / Melbourne artist Glenn Morgan.

Morgan’s art is unapologetically bright and chaotic, each carefully chosen scene hinting at the noise and brilliance in the mind of the artist as he created it.  Glance casually at his paintings and you’ll be blasted with colour and energy, but run the risk of missing the serious complexity of thought and execution that goes into his work.

Look closely and you’ll discover that the irreverence of his painting style betrays the reverence with which he chooses his subjects.  Each piece feels like a snapshot of a moment in time, set in a location that’s personal to the artist and then generously shared with the rest of us.  The art extends to the edges of the framing, most pieces are captioned or scattered with speech bubbles, and as a viewer you sense that you’ve stepped out of a time-machine and walked into the middle of somebody’s conversation.  It seems clear that Morgan wants viewers to understand the point he’s making with each piece – whether you’re a viewer who can extract meaning from the abstract imagery, or one who understands best through literal text captions.  

 

I came away from this exhibition wanting to know more about Glenn Morgan, his process and his politics.  This interview from 2014 is a truly wonderful glimpse into the person, and the importance he places on teaching, community and symbolism as a form of communication.  

Instagram: @glennwilliammorgan